Ten Little Things
by Jess.91
Summary: I love reading these, so I thought I'd try my own. Ten facts about some of the HP characters. Starts with next generation.
1. James Sirius Potter

Ten Little Things

Summary: I love reading these, so I thought I'd try my own. Ten facts about some of the HP characters. Starting with next generation.

1. James

1. He and his siblings had discussed their names at one point, when they were younger. James no longer remembers exactly how they got onto the subject – in hindsight, it doesn't seem like a very interesting conversation. But he remembers what they said, and though it was never something he dwelled on, he never really forgot. Albus had admitted he didn't like his name, and would have preferred something "original" rather than being named after dead people. Lily had shrugged that she didn't really mind hers, though it was weird to see her own name on the war memorial, when they went to the memorial ceremony every year.

James, however, always liked his name, and liked that he'd been named after people who were important to his parents. Although he had to admit that he might feel different if his name was Albus Severus. James Potter and Sirius Black, after all, had been cool, and while he didn't doubt that Albus Dumbledore was a brilliant wizard, Severus Snape didn't sound cool at all...

2. When he was little (and when he was older, though he'd never admit it) he idolised Teddy Lupin. He knew that they weren't really brothers, but their parentage was a small detail to James, and he always thought of Teddy as a big brother. He was also amazed by Teddy's metamorphamagus abilities, and would sit and stare at his reflection for ages, willing his hair or eyes to change like Teddy's did, actually believing it would work.

When he was eight, Teddy found him, and explained exactly why James couldn't do it. James sort of, almost, a little bit, cried.

He denies - even to himself - that any of that ever happened, of course.

3. When he was about to start Hogwarts, he laughed when people said he wouldn't get into Gryffindor, and told everyone he was certain that would be his house. As if, he'd say in a loud, confident voice, the hat would put him anywhere else. Really, he wasn't so sure, and the second the sorting hat was placed on his head, he abandoned all pretence of confidence, and pleaded with the hat to put him in Gryffindor.

He'll never forget the sound of the hat - a hat, of all things - laughing at him, and telling him that Gryffindor was exactly where he'd belonged, and he'd seen so straight away.

4. He loves Quidditch. Always has done. And when he, Al, Lily, Rose and Hugo used to play Quidditch on their toy broomsticks when they were younger, he wanted to play seeker, like their dad, but so did Lily. And she was younger, and she was his little sister, and so...He let her, and always played chaser instead. He turned out to be a pretty good chaser, due to all the practice, and even when he joined his house team at Hogwarts, he tried out for chaser rather than seeker.

He doesn't, not for a minute, resent that. He turned out to be one of the best chasers Hogwarts had ever seen, made Captain in his fifth year, and went on to play Quidditch professionally after Hogwarts, playing Chaser.

5. He was always a little annoyed that, while Rose and Hugo were his favourite cousins, neither of them were his age. After all, Rose was Al's age, Hugo was Lily's. And Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron were always coming over to their house, or they were going to theirs, and so they spent a lot of time together. And he knew that Rose and Al would be in the same year at school, as would Lily and Hugo. And it didn't seem fair that they'd have the security of a best friend at Hogwarts with them, and he wouldn't.

One time, he asked his aunt Hermione why they didn't have a kid his age. She'd hesitated for a moment, and then smiled and told him Ron wouldn't have been able to cope. He didn't really understand that until much later.

6. He loved all his family. All of them. They were, in his opinion, the best family in the whole entire world, wizard and muggle. And he loved the whole family get-togethers, even if it meant you could barely move, no matter what room you were in. But his Aunt Fleur – though he loved her, still, and never treated her any different - was always his least favourite aunt, for as long as he could remember. And, though he tried to come up with a reason for it, he never could figure out why. By fourteen, he decided to just assume it was one of those things, and kept it as his guilty secret.

7. He stole the marauder's map from his parents' room, during the Christmas holidays in his first year at Hogwarts. Not, of course, that he was a kleptomaniac in the making or anything. It was, and is, the only thing James has ever stolen. He had asked – since before he even got his Hogwarts letter – if he could have the map to take to school. He even swore he wouldn't use it to sneak out of the castle. But his dad wouldn't give him it. And since this, after everything his father had done, seemed hypocritical and unfair, James felt justified in taking it, especially since Teddy had had it during his school years. So James sneaked it out his father's desk, with help from his siblings and Rose and Hugo.

Harry pretends he doesn't know, and James pretends he doesn't know that Harry knows. It may seem odd to some people, but it works for them. The day he left Hogwarts, he handed the map to Al, who rolled his eyes and said something about it being about time, he was starting his last year in September, was so obviously grateful that he convinced no one.

8. James always acted as though nothing fazed him, from a young age. He was Harry Potter's son, he was Teddy's sort-of brother, he was a big brother himself and a Gryffindor. He couldn't be scared easy, couldn't be a nervous sort of person. He was the boy who never got scared. He was the boy who never flinched when someone jumped out at him. As far as everyone knew, he rarely even got nervous. But, though James wasn't scared sort of person, though James did have strong nerves, and though he did have some confidence, the rest of it was an act, and one he had to work on.

His biggest secret is that, when he was getting ready to do his O., he freaked out a little bit. He was convinced he'd fail miserably, and suddenly realised that he wanted to pass all of them, and pass them well, too. So he panicked. And it was Rose who found him in all his panicky glory, and calmed him down. He repaid her by never calling her "Rosie" again, and she kept his secret.

9. Lily is his little sister, and no matter how old she gets she'll always be his little sister, and he'll always be protective over her. They've both accepted this. He was protective over her from the moment she was born, old enough to be amazed by the tiny little baby that kept looking at him with wonder, and ordering anyone who held her to be careful. It never occurred to him that he shouldn't protect her. And so, in his last year of Hogwarts, when he saw Scorpius Malfoy looking at Lily one time, he stormed over and demanded to know why he was staring at his little sister. Because Lily was far too young to have boys looking at her like that. Scorpius blushed bright red and mumbled a reply James didn't hear; if Al hadn't pulled James away, he'd have hit the boy.

People said he was too protective of Lily. Often. He doesn't care - no one stares at his little sister like that, not even his brother's best friend. (Though this incident, and James's warning of "you better stay away from her, she's just a kid" didn't seem to be to effective in the long run – it was barely a year later that Scorpius and his sister became a couple.)

10. When he was about fourteen, he and Al and Lily were looking through some old pictures. Of their parents, and of their paternal grandparents. They didn't miss the fact that both their mother and paternal grandmother were redheaded, and Lily decided on the spot that since Harry and his father both married red-heads, James and Al were bound to do the same.

Scarily, it made sense to James, and he worried about that for a while, because the only red-heads he knew were ones he was related to, and that was _gross._

Then he found one he _wasn't _related to, and knew Lily was right.


	2. Albus Severus Potter

2. Albus

1. He always thought he had the worse names ever and that his parents were weird for naming their kids after dead people. Because not only was the name "Albus Severus" suck, but it was made out of two dead people – one of who had actually killed the other. And so people would hear him first name and smile, and say "After Dumbledore, right? Great man, he was. If a little bit mad..." And he didn't like this, because it was bad enough having to live up to his father, never mind him namesake too.

And as for Severus, well by all accounts that man was heavily hated by everyone – except maybe Dumbledore himself – and though Harry had explained just why he'd middle-named Al after Snape, it just didn't seem a good enough reason to Al. And he'd have much preferred something new, something that was uniquely his, so that – even though he'd have expectations because he was the son of The Boy Who Lived – he would have something to give him his own, separate identity. Until he was nine, he thought James felt the same; he was surprised when he found out he was wrong, and a little bit disappointed, too.

2. He'd been terrified of his sorting for weeks. James had made up a million ludicrous stories about how exactly students were sorted – backed up by either by a sniggering Uncle Ron or a smirking Uncle George – but finally Teddy, seeing just how distressed he was, had told him the truth. Which had been confirmed by Aunt Hermione, who never lied, not even as a joke. But still, Albus was terrified. He didn't want Slytherin.

And yet, when his dad told him he could choose which house to go in, Al considered choosing Slytherin, just to see what James - and everyone else - would do. The hat told him he'd do better in Gryffindor, and, in all honesty, Al was relieved.

3. He wasn't that great a Quidditch player when they were younger – though he wasn't all that bad, either, possibly due to his genes, possibly due to the amount of times they played Quidditch on their toy broomsticks, and then on real ones - but when he started Hogwarts he wanted to be on the house team like his brother, and like their parents had been. James helped him practice every night until the try-outs, telling him over and over he'd make a great chaser. And Al knew James had a million other things he could be doing, rather than stand out in the cold – and the rain on one occasion – coaching a brother who's self-confidence rose and fell unpredictably.

He made the team and never forgot James' help. It made it easier to put up with the constant teasing, jokes and bickering. Because despite everything James did, or said, or caused, he was always there when Al needed him the most. And you just can't beat security like that.

4. There had been a pattern in Albus' family for as long as he could remember. Teddy had idolised Harry, and apparently had done from a very, very young age. James had idolised Teddy, practically from birth, trying several times to change his appearance like the older boy. And Albus had idolised James, for reasons he couldn't explain to even himself. Possibly, he thought, it was a simply little-brother big-brother dynamic.

Lily, aged eight and a half, told them they were all idiots and Albus often thought she was probably right.

5. He, too was protective over Lily. And he, too, didn't think anyone should ever look at her the way Scorpius had done. It was like some kind of betrayal, really, one of his best friends looking at his little sister that way.

But he stopped James hitting Scorpius because Scorpius was his friend. And friends didn't let friends get their noses broken. But he argued with Scorpius that night, because Lily was his sister.

And, for the rest of that year, he watched his friend closely, knowing that if there was a next time, not only would he not stop James, but he might just hit Scorpius himself. And then, after that year, he forgot all about it.

So his little sister telling him that she was, in fact, now dating Scorpius Malfoy was a shock, and something it took a little while to get used to.

6. Rose was his best friend, Scorpius was his second best friend. This was largely due to the fact that he and Rose had grown up together, known each other from birth – she was only four months older than he – and knew each other, and each other's lives, as well as they did themselves and their own. And so, despite how close he and Scorpius got, when asked who was his best friend, it was no contest. Four years of friendship just couldn't beat fifteen years of being both best friends and family.

And until he was actually asked, in front of them, he thought they knew that. It was Hugo who asked which one was his best; Al never forgot the look of surprised hurt on Scorpius' face, and was mad at Hugo for a little while.

7. The first time he ended up in the head teacher's office – in a little bit of trouble, and yes because of James - he spoke to the portraits of both his namesakes. Wondering, as he did so, just how these portraits had personality, and how exactly they worked, and how true to life they were.

Severus glared and said very, very little. That conversation went something along the lines of him saying, "You're Severus Snape? Severus is my middle name...After you..."; the portrait Snape sneering, "And your parents are?" and Albus replying "Harry Potter, and Ginny Weasley." To which the portrait Snape looked momentarily surprised, but didn't answer, simply glaring.

Dumbledore spoke back, chatting idly about the weather, of all things. And although he seemed nice enough – if a little eccentric, Albus never understood why his dad had thought either of them worth naming a kid after.

8. He was pretty much the only person who knew who could sit with Luna Lovegood and have a conversation without smirking, laughing, or being patronising. Because while James and Lily liked her a lot, James often smirked fondly, and Lily would sometimes lose patience with her.

He thought Luna was pretty much crazy, really, but decided there was no proof that the things she said were wrong, and so why not listen to her? After all, knowledge is power, right?

9. Everyone thought Uncle George was the coolest uncle, because he had a joke shop. And yes, it was a brilliant joke shop, and a place Al loved to be in. And even though many of his cousins aimed to run one of the stores when they grew up, and even though Al knew George was James favourite uncle – which, at one point in his life should have automatically made him Albus's, too, because that's just the way it worked with them - Albus always secretly thought Charlie was cooler.

Because Charlie was the Uncle who worked with dragons, who, rather than telling them well-worn stories of the war, would tell them stories of his work, and who would let them go to Romania and stay with him. Charlie was, Albus decided soon after James announced his own favourite, the best uncle, in his opinion.

10. James was the big brother. A great one, Albus would tell people, and mean it. But James was the first to go to Hogwarts, the first to make the Quidditch team, the first to take his O.W.Ls, and get pretty good results. James became Quidditch captain, and Albus never did. James got his first girlfriend at thirteen – Albus didn't get his until he was fifteen, and even then that lasted a very short time. James was funnier, more charming, more talented, and Albus often felt that he couldn't be nearly that good. And maybe it was simply because he looked up to James so much, or maybe it was because James was really better than him. He never knew.

But James wasn't made a prefect and Albus was; Albus was thrilled because it meant he'd done something his brother hadn't, even if James hadn't actually wanted to be a prefect. It meant for once that he'd done something James hadn't, that he was – in this little area – better than James. He admitted this to his uncle Ron once, soon after he received his badge; Ron smiled and told him he understood.


	3. Lily Luna Potter

3. Lily

1. She doesn't mind her name at all. Lily is a nice enough name, and so is Luna. She likes, too, that she was named after people important to her parents – after all, if not for Lily Potter the first's sacrifice (which, Lily thought, must have took an amount of bravery that she didn't possess) Harry would have been killed as a baby, and who knows how the world would have ended up? And Luna is one of her parents' best friends, someone who Lily likes, even if she does find her annoying, sometimes.

But the first time she looks at the war memorial, properly looks and it and reads the names, and sees _Lily Potter _on there - in reference to her grandmother - she shivers and wishes she was called something else. Because to see your own name on a list of the dead...Well, it's very unreal, and very disturbing.

After that, she made sure never to look at that name, scared that it would somehow tempt fate.

2. She remembers playing Quidditch on toy broomsticks. And she remembers – even though she must have been extremely young at the time - James letting her play the position she wanted, despite him wanting it, too. And while she knows that he probably only did it to stop her having a tantrum and make his own life easier, she never forgot. She plays seeker on the house team – and plays well, too - and tells everyone that James made her good at it. And while they all assume that he helped her train, they both know what she really means.

The first time she caught a snitch in a real Hogwarts game, she could barely breathe. It was so amazing, so unbelievable. The small, cold sphere in her hand, the roaring of the students in the stands, the rest of the team flying towards her, and James and Al on either side of her, yelling "Well done, little sister." It's something she'll never forget, and it's the memory she uses for a patronus charm.

3. When she was little, she doted on her brothers, and on Teddy. To her, they were the best. She'd trail after them, despite the fact they told her she couldn't play their games because she was a little girl. And when she was scared, or sad half the time she'd got to one of her brothers – or Teddy, who was practically a brother – before her parents. If it wasn't for her pride, she'd probably still trail after them adoringly. Well, maybe she wouldn't.

When Scorpius Malfoy looked at her – and she didn't see him doing it, or even, at first, know what they meant – James just kept saying "that way" which didn't explain it very well at all - and James was going to punch him and Al almost fell out with him, she told them both they were over-protective idiots. Then she flung her arms around their necks and laughed. Because she had the best brothers in the world.

4. Ron's her favourite uncle. Even though to most people he's just occasionally funny and mostly annoying, he's her favourite. They're both terrified of spiders, but one time when he was babysitting her, he faced his fears and caught the spider on that wall, because she was so scared of it. It was only small, and he used magic, but she was four at the time and thought it was the bravest thing she'd ever seen. She never forgot how terrified she was, and how scared he looked as he had to get nearer and nearer to it. And for that, he'll always be her favourite. No amount of joke shops or dragons or scars can compete with that.

5. Hugo was scared of the dark until he was ten. And not just a little afraid, but actually terrified, to the point when he'd be shaking and crying if he was in proper darkness. Lily never told anyone, and never will. They keep each other's secrets and always will. He didn't tell anyone about how she cried when James, then Al, first left for Hogwarts, or about the first time they got drunk and she woke up the next morning behind one of the sofas in the common room with pretty much no memory of the previous night and the worst hang-over ever known to man. And he didn't breathe a word when she told him about her thing for Scorpius. He's her best friend, and always will be.

6. When she was ten, it struck her that the people she and her brothers had been named after were important to their father, rather than their mother, with the possible exception of "Luna". And this didn't seem very fair to her, really, so she asked her mum about it.

Ginny had shrugged and said that honouring his parents had been important to Harry, and she liked the names herself. She, Ginny said, had suggested the name "Albus" because she had great respect for the man, and she had chosen Sirius, as he was a friend of hers and someone she'd liked immensely, and she had chosen Luna, who was one of her best friends. So, really, it all worked out.

Lily still kinda feels it's unfair. After all, Harry got to choose two first names. But her suggestion that they had another baby so Ginny could name it was met with a very firm "No."

7. The first time she was in the headmaster's office, she was twelve and a half, and in a little bit of trouble. Not lots, and she did only get the one detention out of it. She saw the way the Snape-portrait reacted when it heard her name. Then he glared at her, and she glared back. She didn't like him. The Dumbledore portrait started a long conversation with her, one that she couldn't wait to get away from and left her thinking he was definitely a little crazy. Later, she and Al had a long discussion about it.

8. When Harry told her that the sorting hat would let her have a say in which house she went in, she was intensely relieved, and couldn't see why he hadn't told her before. Although she did spend a little while wondering if he was lying, because what would be the point of the sorting hat if you could just choose your house?

But then she decided that her dad wouldn't lie about it, and so she and Hugo made a pact to make sure they were both in Gryffindor, because they were best friends and _had_ to be in the same house. He agreed quickly, which was good, because the thought of having to do lessons and stuff without Hugo was something that hat alarmed her.

9. She did pretty good in her O.W.Ls, and was extremely proud of her results. But she nearly failed her astronomy O.W.L, because she fell asleep in most of the lessons. Well, whose bright idea was it to schedule lessons at midnight, anyway?

If not for Rose tutoring her on all the she'd missed over the years of sleeping, she would have definitely failed. As it was, she managed an "A", though undoubtedly just barely. But, as she assured everyone, it wasn't as if it was important or anything.

10. The first person to say they loved her was James, although she doesn't know. When she was few hours old, the grown-ups sat him down and settled her on his lap, announcing that this was his little sister. He stared at her in wonder before hugging her gently and murmuring, "I love you, little sister."

Years later, when she told him nervously that she was seeing Scorpius Malfoy, and asked if he hated her for it, he simply hugged her gently and murmured, "I love you, little sister."


	4. Rose Weasley

Big, big thanks for the reviews.

4. Rose

1. She was determined to be the best at everything, ever since she was little. Maybe it was because everyone was always saying how smart her mum was, maybe it was because her dad's side of the family were such good Quidditch players, maybe it was because of her family's place in the war. Or maybe it was nothing to do with any of that, and it was simply some innate predisposition. Either way, it had her trying to be the best, wanting to be the best, determined to be the best.

It was James who asked her what she was trying to prove, and told her she couldn't be the best at absolutely everything, advice which, in the long run, turned out to be very useful.

2. But it was Al who helped her study when she didn't come top in her potions class, even though it was the one lesson he beat her in. And she couldn't believe he'd actually do that for her, because she saw his face when she finally got more marks than he did. Through the congratulations and smiles, she knew he was thinking that he was, once again, second best. And since she could see that, and since she knew that, were it the other way around she'd feel extremely resentful, that was the last time she let herself beat him in that particular class, right up until her O.W.Ls, where she did, after all, have to be a little selfish. (Though as it was they wound up with the same grade.)

3. She'd always thought Scorpius was Al's best friend and she wasn't. After all, she was family, and so would he even count her as a friend? And, wouldn't be feel closer to the boy? She herself had been desperate to make some girl friends at Hogwarts, so surely he'd feel the same? Surely he'd feel much closer to Scorpius, someone he could do "guy-things" with?

But because she had to know, she made Hugo ask him, just to find out. She sort of regretted it, because Scorpius looked hurt and Al got mad at Hugo. But she sort of liked knowing it, too.

4. She always wondered why her parents didn't name her or Hugo after someone who'd died. She didn't ask until she was fourteen, and Hermione told her they wanted the future to be clean and new, and that they didn't want their kids to be a reminder to everyone of what was lost. She notices the way Lily avoids looking at the memorial plaque, how James pours his heart and soul into Quidditch to make his name mean something in its own right, how Al dislikes his name and his namesakes, and how Fred tries to cause as much trouble as possible to live up to his father's dead twin. And she decides her parents made the right choice.

Then she thinks about how she and Hugo are trying to live up to their parents' success, and wonders if it actually makes that much difference. Would she feel any more inclined to prove herself if her name was Nymphadora, or something along those lines? No, she doesn't think she would.

5. She thought it was hilarious that James freaked out about his O.W.Ls. He just didn't seem the type to do it, and yet there he was, all panicky and even a little shaky, going on about how he was going to fail and get thrown out and he'd never live down the shame.

She'd had to remind him that he wanted to be a Quidditch player, not a healer, to which blinked stopped trembling, and said "I do? Oh...yeah...Quidditch..."

"And they don't expect brilliant grades for that, James." She'd told him calmly. "They just want you to be a good player. And you are."

And then he was all calm, and grinning foolishly. "Sorry, Rosie. Don't, ah...I'd appreciate it if you didn't, you know, tell anyone about this?"

6. When she was nine she decided that Rosie was childish name, and told everyone to call her Rose. She let her dad get away with it, because he was a dad and she was always a daddy's girl. But she got mad at James for not switching to Rose like everyone else.

When she finally got her own way, she found herself sort of regretting that he no longer called her Rosie. Not, of course, that she'd ever admit it.

7. Everyone thought she and Scorpius were going to end up together, even Al, just because they were friends and their dads were enemies. In truth, they were such good friends that she never even considered him in any other way. Even when she did, at fifteen, try to imagine them as a couple – out of curiosity, not because she actually liked him – it just didn't seem right. In fact, Rose decided, trying to picture the two of them kissing, it was actually kind of...gross...

So when he and Lily got together, she was thrilled, despite a short lived, wholly untruthful rumour that she was furiously jealous and wanted to hex them both.

8. She's afraid of owls. It's ridiculous, she knows, as she was around them so often, but their sharp beaks and claws, as well as the way they stared at her, unblinking, scared her. Only Hagrid knew, because it was his tradition to Harry, Ron and Hermione's kids owls for their eleventh birthday. She confessed to him, two weeks before she turned eleven, because the thought of having her very own owl - _in her bedroom_ - terrified her. After trying to help her over the fear – those few days are ones she's tried her best to repress - he bought her a kitten instead, despite his allergy.

Hagrid is one of her very favourite people in the whole world.

9. She was a relatively good Quidditch player, but chose to be only a reserve because that way she got to watch the sport she loved, as well as practice. It seemed a win-win situation, because she loved practices, and loved watching the matches. Even if James sometimes hinted that she should push for a "real" place on the team, and her dad constantly asked if she'd actually played yet, she loved being a reserve.

Then, of course, when she had to step in a keeper in her fourth year, and didn't think anything could beat that feeling of playing on the winning team. So in her fifth year, she finally pushed for a proper place on the team, which was obviously helped by the fact that James was captain.

10. She was always one for facts. Always. Even when younger, when he dad would tell his obviously exaggerated war-stories, she'd go to her mother after and ask how much was true. Because the elaborate stories may be fun, but the truth was what she was really interested in.

She thought Luna Lovegood was a sweet enough person, but didn't really have the patience for her far-fetched tales, or for her son Lyssander, who believed it all whole-heartedly. His brother Lorcan, however, was a lot easier to talk to, to like, to...


	5. Hugo Weasley

5. Hugo

1. He and Lily were the last in the entire family to go off to Hogwarts, and he sort of thought no one would really care when they left; it was nothing new, nothing big, and waving him away for that first time would be routine. He pretended that didn't bother him, but it did. After all, no one likes to be considered unimportant, and that was how he'd felt.

And then his mother cried as the train pulled out, with him on it for the first time. Actually cried. And he realised then that it had been rather silly to think no one was bothered he was leaving, that his parents wouldn't miss him. He'd never been so happy to see anyone cry.

2. For the first three years of his Hogwarts career, his teachers described him as an under-achiever who didn't use his potential. They'd probably expected his to be a male version of his mother and sister, but he was an average student, and he didn't care, because all he wanted to do was join the family business and run one of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. And he'd been promised by his dad and Uncle George that if he wanted to work in, and then take over, one of the stores, then they'd let him. So, Hugo would reason as he'd throw together some decidedly low-standard homework, grades wouldn't be important. His dad and Uncle George were hardly going to say "Sorry, Hugo, but your Charms grade is far too low for you to work here," were they? Especially when Uncle George only had, like, three O.W.Ls himself.

3. Then James told him that there was no point pretending to be thick, and that trying a bit harder would at least keep his parents happy. And, for reasons he can't explain, he did start trying just a little bit harder. It paid off, too, when Neville wrote to his parents to report that his grades were drastically improving, and his mother, the next time she saw him, threw her arms around him and said how proud she was.

He often wonders how James feels about having such influence on his younger cousins. He wishes he had younger cousins - or siblings - of his own, to boss around and have look up to him. Being the youngest – or co-youngest, as Lily often reminds him – of such a large extended family isn't always very fun.

4. He was terrified of the dark until he was ten, and only Lily knows that. Well, he thinks Rose suspects as much, and his parents probably know, but he only told Lily. And it was she who helped him get over the fear, too, when he decided that ten was far too old to be scared of the dark, and realised that he'd soon be going to Hogwarts and couldn't go there all scared of the dark. She helped him manage in a slightly darker room, gradually decreasing the light every time she slept over, or he slept at hers. And then, finally, she slept over at his house, and the two of them laid on the floor in sleeping bags, completely in the dark. He had a few panicky moments, but she talked to him until he was calm, and eventually he managed to sleep. And, after a few more nights, he could manage it one his own.

He trusts her more than anyone else in the whole wide world.

5. At nine, he and Lily made a bet to see how long it would take Teddy and Victoire to get married. She's a hopeless romantic, and bet that they'd be married by the time Victoire was twenty. That, he thought, wasn't that far away, and Teddy still seemed too young to be married. Far too young. And so he bet that it'd take longer.

Despite his best efforts to talk both Teddy and Victoire out of it, Lily won.

6. It really wasn't a great idea for he, Lily, and some of their mates to get woefully drunk that time in their fourth year. It was the day after they'd won the Quidditch cup. They'd enjoyed the Gryffindor party the night before so much, they decided to have their own...and then someone suggested the get some firewhiskey from the kitchens, and, well, it all went from there.

He was the first one to wake up, curled up on a little table with someone's cloak over him and his shirt hanging out of the window - he never did find out why - as well as several bruises and a general feeling of grossness. He and Lily both swore never to do it again.

They swore that after the next time, too. And the next. And the next. And the next...

7. Dementors were no longer in Britain. Not one. And that was something Hugo was always very glad of, because they sounded horrible. And even though the chance on them ever coming face to face with a dementor was less than one percent, he and Lily decided to learn the patronus charm, just in case. And so they could tell people they could. And send messages. And...well, there was a few reasons for it.

He'd hoped for a lion, or a shark, or a wolf like Teddy. He'd got a fox, and it had taken him weeks to accept it, because foxes weren't very...impressive. But he soon grew to like his little silver fox.

8. It was always a family favourite to play pranks on Uncle Percy, because he was so annoying, for as long as Hugo could remember. Whenever the family would get together – and they did so often – the kids who hadn't grown out of it would plot against their uncle.

Right up until the time they switched his wand for a fake one. Hugo was thirteen, and he watched, smirking, as the wand turned into a big rubber parrot, with a loud squawk. Uncle Percy flinched, and then – rather than being angry, or amused, or anything that they'd expected, he looked close to tears and whispered something about Fred, and how often that had happened when he was younger.

Hugo was rather disturbed, as well as sympathetic, and told everyone they had to stop, now. He refused to explain properly, just saying that it wasn't "very fair". He didn't even tell Lily until a few days later, but at the time Uncle George had overheard, and Hugo always though he may have guessed.

9. When it was time for his sorting, the hat was rather inclined to place him in Hufflepuff. Because of his pact with Lily, Hugo had to spend ages talking the hat around, while it pointed out how his loyalty to his cousin showed his Hufflepuff qualities. Hugo had nothing against the house, and if it weren't for his pact – or the fact that a large part of Gryffindor was family – he would probably had accepted the hat's decision. But instead, he desperately argued.

It was only when Hugo threatened to leave the school if he didn't go where he wanted that the hat gave in, muttering that he was relatively brave, it supposed, but Gryffindor would have been its second choice...

10. He doubted his bravery, because of that damn hat, for year or two, until he finally got round to telling his mother that he hated it when she called him "Hughie." She'd done it, not very often, for as long as he could remember, but by the time he was twelve it seemed embarrassingly babyish, and he finally asked her to please stop.

He had to endure the hurt look on her face, had to fear that she might get mad, and had to struggle for an answer when she asked why he'd never told her that before. After that experience, he decided the hat didn't know what it was talking about. Hugo Weasley was very brave.


	6. Scorpius Malfoy

Thanks for my reviews.

6. Scorpius

1. He loves his dad, but has never forgiven him for one thing. It's not that he used to be a Death Eater, that he once brought Death Eater's into the castle, that he almost killed two people, nor any of the other dark clouds that litter his father's past. Scorpius doesn't care about any of them – they are the past, his dad was just a stupid kid, and it's all over now. No, Scorpius can't forgive him for something in the present. Something in his present.

The one thing he can't forgive is that his father named him _Scorpius._ Scorpius! Who does that to an innocent little baby?

2. The sorting hat informed Scorpius that it was uncertain where to put him. _This could take a while. Let me think..._

Scorpius told it to just shove him in Slytherin let everyone expected it to. That, it seemed to him, was where he was bound to end up. That was where his family expected – wanted – him to be, and that was where all the students around him – especially the other first years, some of who had refused to stand near him – expected him to be.

But he was kind of disappointed that the hat obeyed.

3. When his dad found out Scorpius was friends with Rose Weasley and Albus Potter, he made him promise he wasn't going to marry Rose. In all seriousness, too.

"I don't mind you being friends with them, son," he'd said carefully, "but I'd really, really prefer it if you didn't bring a Weasley into the family. Especially that one. And it's not because of her blood or anything," he'd added hastily, knowing that pure-blood mania annoyed Scorpius, "but...well, just promise me, OK?"

"I promise." Scorpius had said simply. And it was easy to keep that promise, 'cause Rose was just his friend.

As Scorpius watched Lily Potter, he was thankful that his dad hadn't made him promise not to marry _her._ Because while he obviously wasn't thinking of marriage at his age...well, if Al's little sister looked like that now, he'd probably find it hard to turn down marriage to her when she was older.

4. He didn't blame James for trying to hit him that time. After all, Lily was his little sister, and if Scorpius had a sister he'd probably act the same way. If James had managed to strike him, he wouldn't have retaliated, because he was, after all, stupid enough to be ogling the guy's sister in front of him.

But he decided later that he'd rather have had the punch than the argument with Al later, or the way Al watched him carefully around Lily, for any warning signs. He'd rather have had a broken nose and kept his friends' trust, than had a healthy nose and lost Albus's trust, even for those few months.

5. Albus Potter was the first friend he'd ever made. Not counting, obviously, the sons of his dad's friends, who had been forced upon Scorpius, and who he didn't trust nor like. Albus was someone he trusted, liked, and got on really well with. They were best friends.

And then Al said Rose was his best friend. More than Scorpius. And when he said Scorpius was his second-best friend, Scorpius was ashamed of how hurt and surprised he was. It was just that, he'd never been anyone's _first_ best friend.

6. He and Lily kept things a secret at first, because they weren't sure how people would react, especially her family. But she told Hugo almost straight away, insisting he was her best friend, and he'd keep it a secret.

And then the younger boy sought him out, told him simply; "Don't mess her around." It wasn't said threateningly, menacingly, warningly, and it wasn't an order.

It took Scorpius several minutes to realise it was a request.

7. He had a toy broomstick from the time he could walk until the time he was big enough to get on a real broomstick, when he got a proper broom. His dad would often drag him outside and practice Quidditch, while telling Scorpius that he could be on the house team, easily.

He tried out, half-heartedly, for a place in his team, without really wanting to make it. He never really liked Quidditch. Ever, despite his father's best efforts. No one ever knew, because he was always good at pretending. (And, it was, after all, quite nice to watch Lily play Quidditch.)

8. One time, he heard his mum and his Grandma Cissy arguing. His mum said Grandma Cissy was cold. He never understood it, because with him, she was never cold. She would tell him stories and sing him lullabies and hug him and bring present practically every time she saw him. He grew up with her love showered on him, and she had never one been even cool towards him, never mind cold.

He never knew she showed him all the warmth and affection she had, and denied others.

9. In his sixth year, he found out about Rose's fear of owls. It was quite by accident, when he had to detour to the owlery on their way to a lesson they had together, without Al. She, he thought, had looked a little nervous when he tugged her arm in that direction, explaining he had to send a quick letter, but he'd barely noticed it. And then they were in the owlery, and he sent his letter, turned around, and saw her in the doorway, shaking ever so slightly and staring wildly around at all the owls.

"Are you...scared of owls?" He'd asked incredulously.

"No." She said, in a voice that didn't really sound like hers. "Of – of course not – can we go now?"

"You are, aren't you? You're scared of owls." He persisted. At that moment, an owl swooped down from near the ceiling, out of a nearby window, passing within four feet of her. That, it seemed, was too much for Rose, who spun around and fled. He caught up with her, trying to hide his smirk, and hugged her until she'd calmed down.

It was then that he realised, even though he'd only hung out with her because she hung out with Al, that the two of them had become close friends. And it was because he had only a few real friends that he kept her secret.

10. He's fascinated by muggles. Not in the weird kill-them-all kind of way that Voldemort and his followers were, or a they-should-all-be-locked-away kind of way, but in an isn't-it-amazing-how-they-live-without-magic kind of way. Muggle-studies had become compulsory, in an attempt to improve the way wizards thought of them, and he was secretly thrilled. It was interesting, and he was good at it, and he was fascinated.

He admitted this to Lily, after a few too many glasses of firewhiskey, then swore her to secrecy. She teases him about it all the time, but he doesn't mind because she also set him up talking to her granddad afterwards, and it was nice to talk to someone just as interested as him.


	7. Teddy Lupin

7. Teddy

1. Despite what everyone always told him, for a long time, Teddy believed his parents were dead because they didn't love him enough to stay with him. After all, if they'd loved him, they'd have stayed with him, rather than running off to fight. Or they'd have tried a little harder to live, for him.

Then, when he was eleven, he helped Hagrid fix up a unicorn with a broken leg. It was only young, and very affectionate towards him. Teddy fell in love with it quickly, wanted to keep it as a pet. It was Hagrid that explained that, sometimes, you have to let things go and do what's right, even if you don't want to. Somehow, he connected that to his parents. Somehow, it helped.

2. He doesn't actually miss his parents. Not them personally, because he never knew them. He misses what everyone else has – family, parents, brothers and sisters. He misses what he could have had. He wishes he remembered his mum and dad, wishes he had a little brother to annoy, or a little sister to protect.

But despite all the things he's been told about them, he has no idea of who his parents really were. So, while he craves the idea of parents, family, Remus and Nymphadora are no more than photographs and bedtime stories.

3. It scares him, just a little bit – and probably always will - that little James Potter looked up to him so, from a young age. That James would follow him around and even try to imitate his abilities. It scares him, just a little bit, that Al and Lily and all the others think so highly of him. That they look at him like a big brother, and expect him to be able to fix their problems. It scares him, just a little bit, that Victoire Weasley trusts him more than anyone else. It even scared him when she first told him she loved him.

Because what if he wasn't good enough for their expectations?

4. Other people are most proud of their grades, or becoming prefects or Quidditch Captain, or even playing on the Quidditch team that won the cup. And although Teddy has been Quidditch Captain, and played on winning teams, and got decent grades – he never made prefect, though – his proudest moment at Hogwarts in none of these.

His proudest moment in his entire school career is that one day he turned the entire Great Hall a migraine-inducing pink. He's still not entirely certain just how he managed it, and he got a week of detentions out of it, but, wow, did he gain respect.

5. When he first realised just how he felt about Victoire, he was terrified and disgusted with himself, because everyone thought of him as practically family. He and Victoire and growing up together, and some people even said that they were like brother and sister. And that was just wrong, and sick, on so many levels.

That was what he tried to tell Victoire, too, when he admitted to her the way he felt – because he had to tell her, it was Victoire, and when in doubt she was the person he went to. He tried to explain that there was obviously something wrong with him, and that her entire family would be disgusted, and her dad and uncles would probably curse him to death...and then Victoire rolled her eyes at him and told him that "the family" had practically always wanted them to get together, that her mum and grandma Molly had half-planned the wedding over the years, and that her dad and uncles had placed bets on just _when_ they'd get together.

George won that particular bet, as it turned out.

6. One thing that always, always bothered him, was the way that very few people would look at him and see him. A lot of adults saw him as Remus and Nymphadora's son, that poor little orphan who's parents had tragically died in the war. And they'd say something about how brave his parents were, and how he ought to be proud of them, how they'd sacrificed themselves for a better world. And while he was proud, and he knew they were brave, he often wished those adults would look at him and see him.

As for the other students, they'd look at him and see Harry Potter's godson. Even though, technically, Harry Potter wasn't his godfather – no ceremony had ever taken place. But still, his parents' wishes seemed to be authority enough, and Harry Potter told everyone Teddy's was his godson. This meant – especially in his first few years of Hogwarts – that he was flooded with questions on Harry. "What's he like?" was the most common one, and "What was the war like?" was another he often heard. But then there were those...well, Teddy always called them "the weirdoes" – the ones who'd ask "What's his favourite colour/food/place/subject" ect.

And Teddy would have much preferred to just be Teddy.

7. He loved stories, ever since he was a small boy. Loved the stories he'd grown up hearing. The stories he knew by heart. He loved stories about his parents, about Harry's parents, about Sirius Black. He loved stories about Harry and the others, about the war - for even a boy orphaned in that war could find it fascinating - and he knew that, one day, he'd pass those stories onto his own children.

Because some stories, some memories, should never die.

8. His grandma had made up with Narcissa when he was just a baby, and although their relationship was fragile - and would remain so always - he'd liked her and Draco immensely as a kid, and still got on pretty well with them nowadays. It could be difficult, of course, at his birthday parties, when he'd wanted both Narcissa and her family there, and Harry and his. But after a few years, things were less awkward.

But when he found out that Bellatrix Lestrange, his mother's murderer, was actually his great aunt, the shock made him burst into tears. He was nine, at the time, and he didn't speak to Draco or Narcissa or even his Grandmother for a whole week. Because he didn't know what to say to them, didn't know if he could forgive them for not telling him before not, didn't know if he could forgive them for sharing blood with his mother's killer – didn't know whether he could forgive them because he shared blood with his mum's killer. It was a difficult time for him, but he managed to get over it.

9. Harry explained to him how he'd found a home at Hogwarts, how Severus Snape and Tom Riddle had, too, and Teddy had expected to find the same. After all, Harry and Tom Riddle had been orphans, and Snape, according to Harry, hadn't had a good home life. So Teddy – as much as he loved his grandma and Harry and the Weasleys and Aunt Cissy and everyone – expected to find the same; a home.

Instead, he found a school, one he liked, but still a school, not a home. And he was always just a little disappointed.

10. The whole red-head/Potter-boy thing was a sweet little tradition he was rather jealous of. When James ended up with a red-head, he thought it was just an amusing coincidence. But when Albus Potter hooked up with a red-head, Teddy - after laughing himself silly - decided that if he ever had his own son, he'd encourage the boy to go for blondes, as that was what Victoire was. And he'd seen a picture of his parents from Bill and Fleur's wedding, and his mum's hair had been blonde.

They'd start their own tradition, he decided.


	8. Regulus Black

Well, Regulus isn't next generation, but I don't feel like doing 10 things about Victoire of Fred or any other others right now, so I thought I'd give Sirius's brother a shot. Lorcan's next though.

8. Regulus

1. Once upon a time, he and Sirius had been close. They'd got on great, and Sirius had tried to prevent him from hearing the whole pure-bloods-are-better thing. He failed, of course, but he tried all the same. But then Sirius had gone to Hogwarts, and then Regulus was a Slytherin, and...and they'd just grown apart.

But now he watched. He watched Sirius gather his things and leave in silence, and Regulus bit back the words that wanted to escape.

_Don't go. Don't leave, we can work it out. We can be brothers again, like when we were kids._

But he stayed silent, and Sirius left, and Regulus pretended that he never wanted to stop him anyway.

2. Almost a week after Sirius ran away, Regulus found himself outside his brother's bedroom door, fighting the temptation to go inside. He couldn't have explained why he even wanted to go in, but he knew his parents would be mad if they caught him inside.

In the end, temptation won, as it so often does, and Regulus entered. He noticed the Gryffindor scarf on the floor, clearly dropped, and guessed that Sirius had left it by accident. Sirius had worn that scarf every Quidditch match, and sometimes at home to annoy their parents. Before he knew what he was doing, he shoved the scarf in his pocket. And then he stayed in there for a long, long time.

Later, he pretended he never went in Sirius room, and that he didn't owl the scarf to Sirius.

3. Even though he hadn't sent a note with the scarf, his owl brought one back; Sirius had simply scrawled "Thanks" on a scrap of parchment. How he'd known it was Regulus, he never did figure out. Maybe because it was obvious that neither of their parents would have done so. Regulus had got out a piece of parchment, dipped his quill in ink, and was trying to decide what to write back before he'd even realised it. When he did realise, he put the lid back on his ink bottle, and threw his quill down, watching ink blot and spread over the parchment.

Regulus hid the note inside an old transfiguration book and pretended it didn't exist. And when he saw Sirius around school, once term had started again, he pretended not to see the hopeful look in Sirius' eyes when they met his own.

4. He always pretended. He never realised it until shortly before his death, but he had always pretended.

He'd played perfect son, typical Slytherin, and pretended, mostly fooling even himself, that he loved the dark arts and wanted to follow Voldemort. Because people expected him to be perfect son, typical Slytherin, and a Death Eater, and somehow he couldn't break away from that. So he'd ended up pretending, for his whole life, even to himself.

(And then suddenly, he couldn't do it anymore.)

5. He knew Sirius was an animagus. He'd overheard a conversation once, between Sirius and James Potter, and had been jealous, both because he'd known he didn't have the skill to do the same, and because Sirius hadn't told him. Even though they had already drifted apart...something that big – surely he should have told him?

Still, he kept that secret, even after Sirius ran away, even after he'd joined the Dark Lord. He never could have explained why.

6. Bellatrix was hell-bent on killing Sirius, for he'd disgraced their family, much as her own sister had. Regulus had desperately talk her out of it; pretending he agreed they needed to die, pretending he didn't want to save them, but that his mother was still holding out hope that Sirius would come around, and that it would break her heart if he died. After all, he reasoned, his mother was ill, and it wouldn't be fair to her. And, he added, Andromeda was hardly worth killing after all these years, wouldn't it be better for her to focus her energies on the cause, on the Dark Lord's wishes?

He was always good at pretending.

7. He never killed. He actually believed he could, believed he'd have to, but when the muggle-born young woman, the one who'd refused to help a Death Eater earlier and so had been sentenced to death, when she cried and begged him not to kill her, sobbed that she had a baby, a little baby daughter at home, he couldn't bring himself to end her life. How could he have believed he could do it? There was no way he could kill her – she was round about his own age. And how was he supposed to take a child's mother away? He couldn't...he just couldn't do it.

Instead, he told her to get her baby and run, leave the country, and just go. Then he followed her to make sure she did.

8. He wondered, as he hung back and hoped none of his fellow Death Eaters realised he wasn't participating in their killing spree, how things would have turned out if he'd been sorted into Gryffindor like Sirius. Would he have rejected the pure-blood mania? Would he have joined the Order of the Phoenix instead of the Death Eaters? Would he have to guts to say "Voldemort" with the same disgust as Sirius, rather than muttering "the Dark Lord" with feigned respect? Would he have felt like he was doing the right thing, rather than hating himself?

9. It's the dreams that really undo him. He could pretend to still believe in the cause, to still be devoted to the Dark Lord, to not be disgusted by the Death Eaters and their actions, if he didn't dream. Every night, sleep would bring terrified screams, heartfelt pleas, desperate voices screaming curses and jinxes in an attempt to protect themselves or their families, and blood. So much blood, and he'd feel the heat of it over his hands. He'd dream of death, of bodies, and the feel of hot, sticky blood on his hands.

And he couldn't live with the dreams, couldn't pretend anymore.

10. He wasn't scared of death. He watched Kreacher vanish, and knew that he could have made the elf risk his life to save him, to take him back with him. But there was no sense in them both dying, and Regulus knew that to stay alive would mean more pretending. He was sick, so, so sick of pretending.

So he let them take him; let death take him, and felt nothing but relief. Death doesn't expect, nor except, pretence, and Regulus was finally free.


	9. Lorcan Scamander

Yep, Lorcan, because I made myself interested in him after pairing him with Rose. I'll admit I did that randomly, but I like it.

And for those who don't know, Lorcan (and Lysander) are Luna's sons. JKR put out a family tree, for the Weasleys, Draco Malfoy, and Luna. It's on her website, if anyone hasn't seen it and wants to.

Oh, btw, I know number three seems a bit...well, unrealistic, stupid, ect, but Luna painted her friends' faces on her ceiling, so it's not that hard to imagine her doing this. And number 10 is strangely sappy...I'm in a strange mood right now, apparently.

9. Lorcan

1. For as long as he could remember, his mother had told him stories of weird creatures with weirder names. He liked those stories, and he and Lysander would play games that involved those creatures. It was a common occurrence for one of them to yell "watch out for the nargles!" and then dissolve into giggles. But they were always stories to him, never real.

It wasn't until he was around seven that he realised they weren't just stories to his mum. She really believed them.

2. He had always known, however, that Lysander believed in them. They had, at one point, argued over it. And Lorcan had, once, tried to prove their non-existence to his brother. But Lysander had accepted no proof, and eventually Lorcan decided it didn't matter that he believed them. It didn't force them apart, or cause life-long rifts. No, he learned to not care about it, and Lysander didn't care that Lorcan didn't believe - they were brothers, and they were close.

But finding out that his mum believed too? Well, that left him feeling a little bit like an outcast. Even his father, though sometimes doubtful about the more extravagant creatures Luna described, seemed to pretty much believe. But none of them tried to force Lorcan to believe, and so eventually the feeling of being an outcast dimmed.

3. His middle names are Harry Neville. Lorcan Harry Neville was a bit of a mouthful, he told his mother when he was small. She smiled, and told him in that dreamy way his mother often spoke, that Harry and Neville - as well as Ron and Dean, his brother's middle names - were some of the first friends she'd ever had. He was around seven or eight, but from that moment on he was fiercely protective of his mother, because he knew that she hadn't made friends with them until after her fourth year – and the thought of his mum being friendless for all those years...well, Lorcan didn't like to imagine how lonely it must have been.

4. It was Rose Weasley who told him that just because he didn't believe the things his mum and brother did, just because his imagination wasn't as able as theirs, it didn't make him an outsider, didn't make him any less their family. He took some convincing at the time, actually, because he was feeling a little low. But eventually she talked him round, and he was always grateful for that. He hated feeling like an outsider, and she didn't say it in a patronising way either – but more like it was fact, and that made it easier to accept.

5. She may have been older than him, but he and Rose always had a bond. Maybe because they both preferred facts to fantasy; maybe because they were both more serious than their siblings. Maybe it was something completely random. But either way, they had a bond, and they liked being around each other.

She was mature and grown up around most other people - around him, she knew she could act like an idiot and he'd think nothing of it. And, when he wanted to get away from his mum and her stories, he could have a real, serious conversation with her. Still, it took him a long time to convince her that the age difference meant nothing; he didn't mind, either, because if she had accepted his arguments without dissecting and analysing, she wouldn't be Rose, and he wouldn't want to be with her at all.

6. He was pretty good wizard. Not Rose's standard – but he liked that, because he could arrange for her to tutor him – but he was pretty good. Only, he had a lazy side. And when it comes to spell work, being lazy tends to make things go...wrong. And so Lorcan had several accidents over the years, but thankfully none that were life-threatening.

When he was thirteen, a backfired spell meant his hair turned a dark shade of purple. Despite many offers to fix it, from people who assumed he had it that way because he was unable to do so himself, he kept it purple. It made him unique, interesting, and he liked it so much better than his old hair-colour.

7. He'd always liked Ron Weasley. He was nice, funny, and easy enough to talk to, as long as you kept the conversation light. And as Lorcan never had any desire to spill his heart and soul to Ron Weasley, to shower the older man with his emotions, they got on pretty well. Plus, Ron had obvious affection for his mum, and that won plenty of point.

However, the first time they met each other as Rose's dad and Rose's boyfriend, rather than Uncle Ron and Luna's kid, he was terrified of the guy. Because he knew Ron Weasley was fiercely protective of Rose; and knew that Ron wouldn't hesitate to throw him out of the house if he deemed Lorcan not good enough for Rose.

But after one awkward, hellish night, Ron reluctantly told him that if Rose had to date (and he'd much prefer that she didn't) Lorcan was the best guy she could have chosen.

8. He often found it difficult to fall asleep, lying awake until the early hours. He found no reason for it, and only a certain potion would help. One that tasted disgusting and was too complex for him to make himself. So if he did give in and decide to take the potion, he had to get someone else to make it for him, and put up with the initial taste, and the after-taste.

So generally – unless he had an important day ahead of him, and needed the sleep – he'd hope he could naturally fall asleep, and lay awake for hours, tossing and turning, exhausted and uncomfortable. It made things difficult, especially at school.

9. There was little to do that he found entertaining as a child. So many things bored him easily, and he had a short attention span, so the things that he did enjoy soon lost his captivity. But he was also extremely competitive – he hated losing, and was always determined to win.

And so, one day during the holidays between his first and second year at Hogwarts, he decided it might be fun to have a...little contest. With his pet owl. And why he chose to do so, he never did figure out, but regardless, he spent a full hour having a staring contest with his owl. It was amazing that he managed that long – he never could do it again – but the owl won, and he never did forgive it for it.

10. He eventually became a journalist, first on the Quibbler and then freelance, writing for the Prophet, Witch Weekly, and others. Then he wrote wizarding children's stories, based off all his mother's creatures. He was famous for his work, was a well-known name across the community, and had more published articles and stories that he could count. He would be, someone once wrote, remembered long after his death.

Personally, he'd rather be remembered by the family and friends he loved with all his heart.


	10. Mrs Weasley

10. Mrs Weasley

1. She was the child who was scared of the dark; scared of spiders; scared of monsters; scared of large dogs; scared of mice; scared of snakes; scared of wasps; scared of bees; scared of dragonflies. She'd drive her brothers mad with her screams, when she saw the things she was afraid of. She'd drive herself mad, because little Molly Prewitt didn't want to be scared. She wanted to be brave, like her brothers.

When the sorting hat placed her in Gryffindor, she was confused. She wasn't _brave_ – far from it. And even though her fears faded and largely vanished, Molly never considered herself brave. What had she ever done to be brave?

As she stormed across the Great Hall towards Bellatrix Lestrange, she was protecting her daughter. Bravery didn't come into it. She was being a mother, not at Gryffindor.

2. She was always pretty good, academically, and worked hard for both her O.W.Ls and her N.E.W.Ts, determined to do well. She and Arthur, incidentally, survived the stress of exams, survived having to study rather than go on dates. She left Hogwarts with decent grades, and could have made a decent career to go with them.

Instead, knowing that their time might be limited, knowing that they belonged together, that they were meant for each other, and that they could create a perfect family, she and Arthur eloped, set up home, and began having children, just like they'd dreamed off. She became a stay-at-home wife and mother, caring for the children.

(And yes, she did want a daughter very much, but she was never disappointed at birthing a son, and even when she finally had Ginny, she didn't love her more than the others. She didn't play favourites – good mother's don't have favourites, and Molly Weasley was a good mother.)

3. And if, once or twice, when she had to juggle their budget to afford second hand books, or when she darned robes that were older than half her kids, she almost wished she'd established a career, and collected some savings, all she had to do was look at her children, and she'd know she made the right choice.

Because they may be poor – sometimes extremely so – but Molly wouldn't have given up any of her children for all the Galleons in the world.

4. Harry Potter was an orphan. A boy who'd grown up without love or affection. A boy who needed, desperately, a family. And so Molly let him into hers. And he did, rather quickly, become like another son to her.

During the first war, she'd had several young sons so she and Arthur didn't join the order and fight. At the beginning of the second war, as she packed their things to move to the headquarters, she was filled with guilt at what she was taking her children into. Risking them, mostly for the sake of one boy, who wasn't hers.

But she couldn't do anything else. She loved Harry like a son; and she'd never have forgiven herself if she didn't support him like this.

(And right before he left, taking her son and another girl she cared for greatly, he hugged her tightly, like a son. And knowing that he knew she cared for him, knowing that he regarded her as the mother he'd never had, that made all the previous nights of worrying for him worth it.)

5. She watched her third son – the one she often worried for, him being so separate from his siblings – walk out of the house. And she was heartbroken . Her son, refusing to come home. Refusing, even, to listen to her. She spent so much time crying over him, so much time wishing to have him back, with her. But a part of her was relieved.

He was safer away from them.

6. She had loved her brothers greatly. And while she worried for them, them being in the order and all, she was rather proud that they'd joined the fight – they were fighting for a better world, Gideon explained when he told her they'd joined the Order of the Phoenix. A better future, for her and her boys, her said. And she was proud that they were standing up, doing the right thing.

But she knew there was a good chance they wouldn't make it alive. And yet, she didn't believe they'd actually die. So when she was told that her brothers had been murdered, she fell apart, and always thought that was the worst feeling, the worst pain, she'd ever experience.

Then she saw Fred, dead on the ground.

And nothing, nothing else she'd ever experienced, or would experience, ever compared to that.

7. She and Arthur had been together from a young age. Many thought they were too young, that they wouldn't last. Even when they'd began having children, people – both people who'd known them, and people who were just friends of their mothers – would say that one day it would all fall apart, and those poor kids would have to suffer a broken home. But Molly knew they were wrong. She knew she'd found her soul mate, and she knew it would never fall apart.

One of the things she was always most proud of, after her children, was the strength of her marriage.

8. As much as she loved Harry, it was difficult, initially, to forgive him. Not for Fred – never for that, she never once blamed him for that – but for Ron. Because Harry had led her youngest son into danger time and time again, and even knowing he didn't mean to didn't make it right.

He took Ron after the Philosopher's stone, and got her son knocked out. He took him into the Chamber of Secrets – though she couldn't fault either of them for that one, they'd gone to safe Ginny, and had succeeded, something she'll always be grateful for. He took Ron – and Ginny, and Hermione, who she cared for – to the ministry of magic, where they were nearly killed by Death Eaters. (Incidentally, though she and Sirius never saw eye-to-eye, she will be eternally grateful to him, because he rushed off to the ministry after them, and died while preventing the deaths of the children she loved. She cried over his death, and will always regret the fact she never got to thank him.)

And Harry instructed the same three to fight the Death Eaters the night Dumbledore died. And then, then he took Ron and Hermione away, putting them in such danger she barely slept for all those months.

She was both angry with him and terrified for him, and decided that when she next saw him alive – and he just had to live, none of them were going to die – she'd have to hug him then hit him.

But when she finally did see him, see them all, all her anger vanished. Because they were safe, and nothing else mattered.

9. She hadn't wanted Percy to name his daughter after her, and as much as she loves little Molly, she still wishes the girl had another name. She doesn't know why.

Nor had she wanted her grandchildren to be named after dead people, because what does that accomplish, really? However, it was Harry and Ginny's right to do so, and she accepted it.

Still, she finds it hard to call George's son by name.

10. She was a good mother. Determined to be one. But she failed – she failed Fred. She'll never forget the image of his body, empty, and yet with a final echo of laughter on his face. It's a comfort to her that he died laughing.

But when she heard Harry's story, the full story, of how his mother died to save him, she had to fight hard not to cry. Because Lily Potter had done the one thing Molly Weasley wished she could have done. The one thing Molly felt she should have done.

Lily Potter gave her life for her child. And Molly Weasley did not.

The guilt of not protecting her son will haunt her forever.


	11. Lysander Scamander

Thanks again for my reviews. I really do love you all. Lysander now, Luna's other son. Does anyone exactly how much younger Luna's kids are? I know JKR said Luna got married later than the others, but that doesn't mean there's a huge age difference.

Next chapter is Fred Weasley the second, if anyone was wondering.

11. Lysander

1. It never occurred to him that the things his mother would tell him and Lorcan, the creatures she would describe, were anything but fact. She never said they weren't real, and so Lysander assumed they were. And he had no trouble believing in them. Even when Lorcan looked blankly at him and said that of course they were stories, not real, he didn't doubt it. Even when Lorcan tried to prove they weren't real, he didn't doubt it. They were always real to him.

Even when he was old enough to realise their mum had no actual proof, he couldn't bring himself to stop believing. Didn't want to, either.

2. He was the one who introduced Lily to mead. She'd always drink fire whiskey, despite how much she hated the taste. One day when she sat talking to him, wincing at loud noises and sudden movements, muttering that she felt horrible, he asked why if she liked fire whiskey. He'd tried it himself and almost threw it back up, such was his dislike of the taste. She looked at him blankly, and shook her head, saying that it tasted horrible, but she liked being drunk.

And so the next time they were at a party together, he took the fire whiskey from her, and handed her a glass of mead, saying she might like that a bit more. "And," he added, aware he might end up sounding like someone's mother, "try not to drink too much, OK? You can get a little bit drunk, without being half-dead tomorrow."

She'd laughed, nodded. "OK, then. Let's try being hang-over-less." She managed it, too, and she was always grateful to him for introducing him to a nicer alcohol, which, as Lorcan told him, wasn't something everyone would see as an accomplishment. (Lysander was proud, though.)

3. He and his brother spent a lot of time around the Weasleys, particularly at Harry and Ginny's house. Rose and Hugo were often there, too, and he knew Lorcan had a thing for Rose, though they never really talked about it. But when Lorcan would suggest going to Ron and Hermione's, Lysander would quickly agree, because there was a pretty good chance the Potter kids would be there, too, and even if they weren't they would often arrive if they knew the brothers were there.

And Lysander liked being around the Potter's. Because he'd had a crush on Lily Potter since he was a small boy, though no one knew, not even Lorcan. And while he never made a move on her – she once said something about him being a like another cousin to her – he'd always kind of hoped that one day, maybe they'd end up together.

So he was a little bit heartbroken when she got together with Scorpius, because he knew that she really, really liked this guy. And when she admitted to him that she loved Scorpius...well, it took him several weeks to get over that.

4. Maybe he'll always have those complex feelings for her, but they grew a lot less strong, what with her being all in love, and then getting married and everything. Besides, he values her friendship way too much to try and change anything, even if he did have the chance. So they're just really, really good friends, and that's the way they'll stay. And he was happy for her when she got engaged, and married, and pregnant. And seeing her completely happy with someone else meant it was hard to try and imagine her with him.

That's why he can fall completely and totally in love with someone else.

5. He knew Lorcan was protective of their mum, but he didn't ask why until he was about fifteen. It just didn't occur to him to ask before then – it had been going on so long that he was used to it. Then they were talking, just randomly, and he came out with, "You're always really protective of mum, aren't you? Why?"

When Lorcan explained, Lysander filled with sympathy, but not protectiveness. Yes, it was heartbreaking that their mum had been friendless for several years – and something he couldn't understand, growing up with the huge Weasley family around him – but he didn't find himself feeling at all protective. It was, after all, a long time ago, and their mum had lots of friends now.

Maybe it was then that he realised he and Lorcan _were_ completely different.

6. He was always slightly better at magic than Lorcan. Not that Lorcan was bad at it – though that's what Lysander had initially thought, when his brother kept getting it wrong – but Lorcan had a tendency to not put a lot of effort in. So Lysander had the better spell work, the better potions, the better homework marks. (Though in exams they always got pretty much the same, because even Lorcan couldn't not work hard for the exams that decided whether or not he'd be allowed to stay at Hogwarts.)

But when Lorcan accidentally turned his hair purple, Lysander was extremely jealous. It looked, he thought, fantastic. Unique. And all because Lorcan was too lazy to pronounce his incantations properly, or do the right wand movements!

And though he really wanted to change his own hair, he knew that if he changed _his _hair colour, then everyone would think he was just copying Lorcan.

Then, when he was fifteen, he decided, screw it, he was going to be different, too. He needed the individuality, his own identity. So he turned his own hair green, then blue, then orange – only for a short time – and then every other colour you could imagine, trying to find one that fit him. Trouble was, he'd soon get bored of a colour, and want to change it again. So while Lorcan was "the kid with the purple hair", Lysander was "the kid who keeps changing his hair." And he rather liked that. (By nineteen, though, he'd had enough, and reverted back to his normal hair colour.)

7. He's the only wizard he knows who can actually work a muggle computer. They were taught all about muggle technology in Muggle studies, and he found it very straight forward and interesting, though most of his friends got frustrated, and Lorcan actually blew the one he was working on up, saying that the thing was stupid, anyway.

Even his muggle-born friends don't use them, and don't want to, but Lysander likes them, and is really good with him. His brother still sometimes affectionately calls him a computer geek.

8. Maybe it's their mother's genes – because even they won't pretend she's normal, but they like her that way – but he and Lorcan are sometimes rather strange. Not that it's a bad thing. No, Lysander and his brother both agree that weirdness is better than normality.

Sometimes, Lorcan gets in a weird mood, and likes to just sit in silence, in the dark, all alone. Most people find it strange, but he likes to just _sit_, not think, not feel. The only people he knows who completely accept this habit, without asking if something's wrong with him, or if he's OK, are Lorcan and Lily Potter.

9. But he's never worried about him being "abnormal" because he knows his brother is, too. And it's comforting to know those things.

How exactly does he know that about his brother? Well, there's the purple hair, for one thing. There's the random things his brother comes out with. There's the way he and Lorcan commentate the Quidditch matches, both coming out with amusing, if unorthodox, comments. But the clearest assurance of his brother's strangeness happened during one summer, when Lysander saw Lorcan have a staring contest with owl. Lorcan didn't notice him, not even when Lysander laughed. He still thinks it's the funniest, stupidest thing he's ever seen.

10. The first time he stared at the war memorial at Hogwarts, he read every single name. Each and every one, knowing that each was dead. All lost, to a single war. Because of a single man. And, Lysander things, it's just wrong. Those people, they should have lived.

"There's too many names," he'd murmured aloud.

That's the only thing he and his mum don't agree on - she believes the war was needed, that the cause was worthy. He believes there's no cause worthy enough for that many lives. They tell him he can't understand, he wasn't there, and he replies that he doesn't need to have been there - he's seen the names, and that's enough.


	12. Fred Weasley II

I have news. Last night, we had an earthquake. We don't get them over here all that often, and it's the first time I've ever felt one. Wasn't very big either - my mum, brothers and sister slept through it, but still. It's big news for me.

Anyway, away from my pathetic little life, and onto the story. Next up will be Mr Weasley.

12. Fred Weasley (II)

1. He knew, from a very young age, that his dad used to have a twin. He knew, also, that he is named after said twin. And yes, he is proud of it, and pleased that his parents see him as important enough to possess the name of someone they cared about. But at the same time, he sort of wishes he had a different name

Because it hurts, just a little tiny bit, that grandma Molly can't say his name, that his dad rarely says his name, that everyone always gets that _look _when they say "Fred".

Just for once, he'd like them to say the name and think of him, not of his long dead uncle.

2. His dad was the happiest, giddiest, funniest person he knows. He's mostly always smiling, always telling jokes, and most of Fred's friends say how Fred has the best dad ever. George Weasley is still like a big kid himself – maturity is something lost to him.

Except for the 1st of April and the 2nd of May. Those are the days his dad remembers the first Fred Weasley. Those are the day's his dad is sad. Those are the day's Fred dreads – because no child should see their father looking that sad, that broken.

3. Maybe it's the name, maybe it's his father's influence. But Fred Weasley II is often in trouble. He tells jokes, play pranks, and causes general mayhem. And he can't say no to a dare, or a bet. He's tried. But it's something he just can't do.

He once ate three entire boxes of Skiving Snackboxes for a bet. He felt like hell for a full week, was sure he was going to die for three days, but in the end he was 20 Galleons richer and a lot more well respected.

Once he'd gotten over the worry, shock, and anger, Fred's dad was extremely proud. And that, made it even more worth it.

4. Once, he chased Lily around with a big spider. She was screaming and running, he was laughing, and so were his cousins. But the adults? Most of the adults – including his dad, and his grandparents - looked all shocked, then sad, and the entire mood of the party went dark and depressed. Lily stopped screaming, Fred let the spider go, and most of the kids sat around in near-silence, awkward and uncertain.

Fred knows this is because his namesake did the same thing, or something similar. Only, he can't ask about it 'cause that makes everyone sad.

5. His grades were never brilliant. Mostly because he spent most of his time making people laugh. He didn't concentrate in lessons, barely did his homework.

He never exactly try hard in school. Why bother? He was going to run a WWW store, just like everyone expected him to, and no one was going to ask for any "Outstanding" grades there. So he did enough to prevent himself getting thrown out, and nothing more.

Roxy could be the smart one. She got the good grades, she got the prefect badge, and Fred was never jealous, but rather proud.

6. Speaking of Roxy, as much as they argued and annoyed each other, they were close. Always. He wasn't as protective of her as James and Albus was of Lily, but maybe that's because he and Roxy are closer in age. But they get along great, and he wouldn't stand back and let anyone hurt her.

Maybe it was because they grew up with the knowledge that death could easily take your family, or maybe they'd have been close anyway. He'll never know – because the two of them have always known that siblings are not invincible – siblings can, and do, die.

7. His favourite uncle? Wouldn't you like to know. Well, it isn't Harry, though you may expect it. It isn't Ron, though they get along well. It isn't even Charlie, though dragons are pretty awesome. Or Bill, who still looks out for the entire family.

Percy isn't anyone else's favourite uncle, and Fred respects him for not being bothered that a lot of people don't like him, but just being himself anyway.

8. When he was in his first year, there was this one kid who tried to make fun of Fred for living above a store and not having a real house. Fred then pointed out that, while his house was above a store, it was also two storeys high and huge. For almost a month, he was picked on for being rich by a small group of his peers.

Then he lost his temper with it all, and used his aunt's famous Bat Bogey hex. He may not have done it as well as Ginny could, but it was pretty damn good. And when his favourite aunt heard about it, she gave him a laughing hug, telling him he was brilliant.

9. If asked, he'll deny having any fear, at all. "Life's too short to be scared." He'll reply.

But he'll be lying. His biggest fear? Well, maybe it's not a fear exactly. Does it count as a fear when you avoid something at all costs, when the sight of it makes you dizzy, sick, and sometimes even pass out?

It does? Oh, well then, Fred's scared of blood. (Which is why none of the snackboxes he ate were of the nosebleed variety.)

As far as he is aware, the only person who knows this is Roxy, who he happened across when she was nine, bleeding heavily from the nose. Because of a Quaffle to the face, rather than a snackbox. And while she expected him to help her, he went dizzy and nauseous, and had to run from the room. Later, when she was blood free, she made him explain, and he swore her to secrecy.

10. It's not easy being a Weasley. Not when the whole world knows who they are. Not when the famous Harry Potter is your uncle, or the almost a famous Ron and Hermione and your uncle and aunt. Not when your dad runs the famous "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes". Not when nearly all the teachers in Hogwarts have known you since you were little. Not when your name is on the war memorial.

He sometimes considered running away, to a place where no one would know him, no one would know he was a member of the famous Weasleys, no one would know he was named after a dead war hero, and no one would expect him to be constantly funny.

But then he'd remember that, actually, he was pretty happy here. And despite it all, he couldn't bring himself to leave them.


	13. Mr Weasley

I somehow managed to miss a fact in the last one, and thanks again to laura sedia for telling me. So if anyone feels like checking it out, Fred has a number eight now.

Next time, if you're interested, will be Victoire. And thanks to everyone who reviewed.

12. Mr. Weasley

1. He may be a pure-blood, but had never been told he was better. His parents never bought into the pure-blood mania, and so Arthur wasn't even aware anyone thought that way until he reached Hogwarts. And even then, he didn't understand it.

Because muggles fascinated him. The way they managed without magic. The way they managed to live alongside witches and wizards, without even being aware of it. And by the time he had to chose his lessons, Muggle Studies was the first he selected.

And four months into his first year, he loved Muggles.

And maybe people would sneer at him for it, maybe he'd find himself with a low-paying job he loved too much to leave, but nothing changed. He'd always love muggles.

2. But his love of muggles made him feel very guilty for a lot of his life. Every time he saw his wife trying to fix up robes that should have been thrown away a long time ago, or when they had to save every penny to afford second hand school books, or every time one of his kids would light up when they looked at something they wanted, then sink into disappointment when they saw the price, he felt guilty.

He wanted to give them everything they wanted, everything they deserved, and considered himself a failure that he couldn't.

3. He mentioned that to Molly once. He'd taken Ron, who was five at the time, into the village for something. He no longer remembered what. But a muggle child around the same age as Ron pointed and laughed, saying something to his companion about Ron's ancient jeans – they'd been Bill's, once upon a time – and the battered trainers that really needed to be thrown away. Ron had flushed, and innocently asked his father why he never got anything new.

Arthur had hurried him home, and sat at the table, his head in his hands. He'd explained to Molly, when she asked him what was wrong, and asked her if he was a bad father, for not providing properly.

She looked at him for a long moment, then told him they gave their kids love, and, really, that was all they needed. He spent night after night hoping that was true.

4. As a father, all he wanted was his kids to be happy. And if that meant Bill had to go off to Egypt, then so be it. He talked Molly around, and Bill left with their blessing. As much as they worried, what with him being so far away, Arthur knew his son was happy. If that meant Charlie had to go to Romania, then they'd live with that, too. Again he talked Molly into it; again a son left the country with their blessing. Because Arthur was determined he'd see his children happy, no matter what.

And so he always liked Fleur, despite his wife and daughter's obvious dislike. Not because she was beautiful. Simply because she made Bill happy.

5. He liked Harry. A lot. Like Molly, he'd accepted the boy into their family, seeing him almost as one of his own. Harry needed a family; and they were happy to provide. And Harry seemed to be lucky for them; he saved Ginny from the Chamber of Secrets; he saved Arthur when the snake attacked him; he saved Ron when he was accidently poisoned. Arthur had great respect for the boy, and cared for him very much.

But as much as he liked Harry, he'd never wanted him and Ginny to get together. Because Ginny was his little girl, and he'd much rather she never had a boyfriend, ever.

Of course, he wouldn't change anything now, because he had all these perfect grandkids around him.

6. He was always very protective of Tonks. She was young enough to be one of his children, after all, and he found her very naive and vulnerable. Likeable, of course. And an exceptional wizard. But very young. He gave her fatherly advice before she got together with Remus, and tried to talk the man into giving her a chance – because Remus would make her happy, and he wanted that for her as much as he wanted it for his own children. When he found out Remus had left Tonks, pregnant, it was probably a good thing Arthur didn't see him, because he was outraged, enough that he would have cursed the other man, despite them being friends.

When he saw her dead body, it hurt almost as much as seeing Fred's.

7. He'd always felt a little guilty for not participating in the first half of the war. Not doing anything to help. And so when Voldemort rose again, he knew that this time, he had to help. Had to fight. And yes, it was terrifying. He was scared for his children, his wife, for Harry and Hermione, both of who were practically family anyway. And though he and Molly never discussed it, they both had their doubts.

And then they were there – this was it, the end; in twenty-four hours, it would all be over, one way or the other. He was sure of that.

But when they gathered in the great hall to make a battle plan, he knew he'd lose one of his children in that night. His heart broke just a little bit.

8. Ginny was born premature. Not by lots, but enough to convince him that they were going to lose their daughter. Their seventh child, the little girl they'd hoped for, the baby they already loved. He was convinced she wouldn't make it. He'd thought that was the most scared he could ever be.

Then he looked around the room of requirement, saw his family and all the people he cared about gathered, and knew that he'd never felt real fear before that very moment.

9. He made it a point to meet all of his children's friends. Because he liked to know the kind of people they were around, to make sure his children weren't going to be led down a dark path. Some of their friends he liked; some he didn't. But his kids were all good judges of character, it seemed – he perceived none of them as a threat.

He always liked Hermione. She was interesting to talk to, fair to Percy, she put up with his own endless questions on muggles, and he knew, the first time he met her, that she and Ron were going to end up together. He didn't tell anyone, though, because he liked his little secrets.

10. The moment he saw his son's body will haunt him forever. Because he knew one of them would be lost – he'd felt it, and he should have sent them all home right them. But he hadn't. He'd practically sacrificed his son, and that will always hurt; he'll always miss him.

But his guilt was increased a few weeks after the battle. One day, he found himself idly thinking they were lucky only one of their children had died in the war.

He still regrets ever thinking that. Because if they were lucky, Fred would never had died at all.


	14. Victoire Weasley

This was really hard to write, and I don't know why. The first one sucks, but I had to start somewhere.

14. Victoire

1. She didn't like her name. Never had. She hated the way that teachers – well, only the ones she hadn't known since birth – pronounced it wrong. She hated the way it sounded when pronounced right. The hated the way that it couldn't even be shortened to a proper nickname – Teddy called her Vee, and it caught on around the family, but that wasn't a proper nickname, was it? She despised it.

And then Teddy said it softly, and it didn't sound so bad.

2. She liked France, was proud of her roots, and they holidayed there for three weeks once a year, visiting her mum's family. She liked seeing her maternal grandparents, and her mother's sister, and her French cousins. But England was her home; it was where she belonged, and if asked, she would automatically say she was English.

And so, when she was nine, and her parents casually considered moving there for a while, to better get the kids in touch with their roots, she panicked, yelled, and sulked, until they promised they'd never make her move.

Live there? No way!

3. She could speak French, very well. It had been something their mother had insisted on, and so Victoire had grown up bilingual. It was something she liked – she taught Teddy some, though he did rather butcher the language, and it meant they could talk in secret around Hogwarts.

But no matter how hard she tried – and she tried very hard - she couldn't erase the English accent from her voice. But Dominique spoke flawlessly, and _that_ was annoying.

4. Teddy Lupin had been there her whole life. He was her best friend, the person she went to with all her problems, the person she trusted above everyone else in the world. She'd trust him with her life, and give her own for him. It had been that way for as long as she could remember.

She'd been devoted to Teddy since she was very small, believing he made the stars shine. Not that she had drawn this conclusion on her own - he told her that he did. And though she, obviously, soon realised that this was untrue, it changed very little for her.

5. She hated the colour pink; and she hated surprises. Because she didn't like to be caught off guard, even by good things. She hated the way her heart would beat extra-hard when she was surprised, because it always made her worry that there was something wrong with said heart.

And so, walking in the Great Hall and finding everything pink? She was the one who screamed in shock. Of course, she denied it for the rest of her life.

6. By the time she was nine, she'd decided she was going to marry Teddy. And while she grew out of this a little, she always sort of knew they'd end up together. He was perfect for her; and she for him.

So when he awkwardly confessed his feelings, she had to fight not to laugh. He was so horrified with himself, so convinced she'd despise him, and she was so thrilled. All this combined, she was nearly hysterical.

Didn't he know how long she'd been waiting for him to admit to it?

And as for his conviction that the family would hate him - it wasn't as if the rest of the family hadn't seen it coming. The betting pool had been in place for years. (She'd tried to join it herself, upon finding out about it, but her uncles decided she'd have a unfair advantage.)

7. People seemed to expect, with her being beautiful and part Veela and all, that she'd be talented in all areas. But she isn't. There are many things she can't do – although she prides herself on her Quidditch talent. But when asked what she's worse at, she won't hesitate to answer.

Singing. She can't sing. At all. Not one note. Really, even she winces if she tries to sing. Even Teddy, once when he caught her absentmindedly singing her favourite song, told her that she really ought to stop, before the windows broke. (Maybe she ought to have been offended, but it was hard to, when she knew it was true.)

8. Most of the family are red-heads. Her father and his parents and siblings are. James and Albus have dark hair, that sometimes looks dark red; sometimes black. Most of the rest of her cousins have red hair in various shades.

Louis has Weasley red hair, too. Dominique has strawberry blonde hair, that appears lighter or darker in different lights. Yet hers is the same silvery blonde shade of her mothers, no matter what light. Not even a hint of red graces it. It's something she doesn't understand, and something she rather regrets.

9. She was determined to be in Gryffindor. The sorting hat had considered putting her in Ravenclaw, and she'd argued for a full minute before it agreed Gryffindor was viable too. She insisted it was because her family were all in there, even though she now thinks the hat probably knew the truth.

It took her years to admit she was so determined to get into Gryffindor because Teddy was there.

10. She named her first daughter Nymphadora. It took her ages to talk Teddy round to it, but she felt it something she had to do. He was rather reluctant, and she knew he had many reasons for it. But she couldn't help it, and eventually he agreed, though he has a million and one nicknames for her, and only uses her full name when she's in trouble.

And little Nymphadora, a metamorphamagus, hates the name.


	15. Draco Malfoy

Thanks again for all my reviews. Draco now, and Narcissa's next.

15. Draco

1. When he was really little, the first time his father told him all about Voldemort, he'd though it was just a story, something made up to scare him a little bit. And it did scare him. Draco remembers telling himself, "it's OK, it's not real, it can't hurt you," just like his mother always did whenever he had nightmares. It never occurred to him that this Voldemort could be anything other than a story. He couldn't possibly be real.

And then Draco looked at his mother. Narcissa was glaring at her husband; clearly she hadn't wanted Draco to hear this story.

And then he knew it wasn't just make-believe, and little Draco Malfoy shivered.

(At least, he told himself, at least the Dark Lord was gone now...)

2. He wasn't stupid – he was always aware that most of his friends and admires were only his friends and admires because of his surname. But that didn't bother him. Well, sure, maybe he occasionally wanted to have a real friend, who he could trust, but mostly he liked the admiration.

And Pansy Parkinson had been the most annoying girl he'd ever known. He'd despised her; and by the end of his school career, hated her.

But she'd been devoted to him, and he'd liked _that_.

3. He'd been seven or eight – maybe nine – when he'd finally stopped being scared of the Dark Lord. When he'd started wishing he was still around. Maybe it was just because he knew he was expected to want mudblood and muggles to be purged from their world, or maybe he really wanted it. He doesn't know, anymore. But it was around then that it happened.

And then Voldemort was back, and suddenly he was thrilled. This meant he – as the son of one of the Dark Lords most loyal followers – would get all the respect and power he could want. And he was taught to respect – as well as fear – the Dark Lord. So when he was approach and told the Dark Lord wanted him, and had a secret mission, he was rather pleased. He was deemed that important?

But the scariest thing he'd ever done was walk into the dim room where Voldemort waited. He'd allowed the Dark Mark to be burned into his skin, knowing he'd always regret it.

(Nowadays, he looks at that faded mark and feels the bile rise in his throat.)

4. He'd expected a good mission. An easy one, really, because he was so young. So being told he was supposed to kill Dumbledore? He was terrified – barely knew where to start – and though he knew he had to do it, he sort of hoped he'd fail, so scared of being a murderer. Not sure if he could go through with it. Not sure if he could live with himself afterwards.

When he stood on the tower in front of Albus Dumbledore, and the man promised he'd protect Draco and his mother, he filled with relief. It would be OK, then. Dumbledore would hide him and his mother, protect them and everything would -

Then Death Eaters burst onto the tower behind him, and Draco knew all hope was lost.

5. He hated his father. For a long time, he hated his father. For joining the Death Eaters, and getting them into this mess in the first place. For getting caught and sent to Azkaban – if he was going to be a Death Eater, he could at least be a good one - meaning Draco had to take his place. For not telling him what it was like to be a Death Eater. For not telling him that you felt nothing when you killed – Draco may not have killed, in the end, but he came close and knows that he wouldn't have felt nothing - For not protecting his mother - because if it hadn't been for his determination to keep her safe, Draco wasn't sure he'd ever have allowed that Dark Mark onto his skin. For bringing Voldemort into his home, and letting them live in such fear. For taking them to Hogwarts on that night.

He doesn't hate him anymore - he is his father, after all - but he'll never forgive him completely.

6. He saw things in that war that will live with him forever. Did things that will live with him forever. For some time, he didn't think he would ever get past what had happened. Didn't think he could ever forget, ever stop having nightmares, ever stop waking up and thinking it was Voldemort looming over his bed. He didn't think he'd ever feel whole, feel human, again. After the war, he went off the rails for a little bit, living a life centred around cheap drinks and cheap women. It was his way of coping, his way of trying to forget it all, to convince himself he was still alive.

And then he met Astoria, and he didn't need anything else. She kept him centred, kept him real. She didn't hate him for his past, and she seemed determined to get to know him, actually him. He doesn't know what he did to deserve her - he considers he perfect, in every way – but he's careful never to take her for granted.

7. He was a little uncertain when Astoria suggested a baby. Him, a father? He didn't know the first thing about babies, or children, or anything. How was he supposed to be a good father?

But he agreed, and while she was pregnant it seemed to hit him – as suddenly as lightening – that the thing he wanted most in the world was this baby. And then...then Scorpius was born. He was perfect, in every way, and Draco couldn't help but spend hours staring in wonder.

Yes, he picked the name Scorpius. Yes, he knows Scorpius hates it. Yes, a small part of him does find that funny.

But it's a rare, traditional wizarding name, and Draco likes it.

He and Astoria discussed more children. Several times, actually. Unsure whether or not to break family tradition. They never settled one way or the other, and eventually it just never happened.

8. He still has nightmares. He probably always will. At first, he was ashamed of them, sure he was too old for nightmares. But he learned to accept them. He dreams of screams, of himself brandishing the wand that tortured people. He dreams of death, or fire, of fear. He still wakes, shaking – sometimes even sobbing – tormented by the images his minds conjures up. Astoria and he don't talk about them, but when he wakes, she wakes, too, and holds him. He knows that she could easily walk away from him – the first time he woke up sobbing, he tried to hide from her, not wanting her to see, not wanting to admit that he was still a little bit broken. But she's stood with him, always, and with her there he can cope.

He'll always live with the nightmares. He considers it a fair punishment for his crimes.

9. Some would say he was only young when all that happened. That he should be forgiven, and forgive himself. That he was but a child, and barely responsible for his actions.

Draco knows he was no longer truly a child, that he was completely responsible, that he should not be forgiven. Draco makes no excuses, and never has; it was his parents who talked their way – and his way – out of Azkaban, while he stood silent and uncaring.

And for a long time, he was convinced that he would lose his wife and son, convinced that he couldn't hold onto love and happiness, because he didn't deserve it.

10. He turned out to be a pretty good father, he decided. He learned to put his child above all else, and he would die for Scorpius without thought. That surprised even himself, if he's honest. He never forced his own beliefs upon his son, and gave him the most dispassionate account of the war he could manage.

Everyone expected him to be mad when Scorpius and Lily got together. His father expected him to put a stop to it, though Astoria and his mother seemed rather amused.

But actually, once the shock wore off, he was fine with it. She made his son happy, after all, and that was all he wanted.


	16. Narcissa Malfoy

Narcissa now, because I find her really interesting, as my Jigsaw Pieces readers know. And Neville's next.

16. Narcissa

1. She remembers being a little girl. Being happy. She was the youngest, the most fussed over. She loved her sisters. Her parents were always distanced, a little scary, but she loved her sisters. They were older than her, and while they didn't always have the time for her, they usually all got along well. Andromeda in particular was protective over her. She remembers staying up late at night and talking, remembers crying into Andromeda's shoulder the first time a boy broke up with her, while Bella tracked him down and scared ten years off his life. She remembers when everything was – though not perfect – relatively good.

And so she remembers when everything fell apart. It hurt, more than she'd ever admit, when Andromeda left. She remembers watching her leave, feeling so lost.

She was gone, Bella was furious, and insisting that Narcissa had to forget her sister. That she shouldn't miss her. But she did.

And yet, when Bella was imprisoned, she didn't care. She spent years wondering about that, but didn't really want to find the answer.

2. When she gave birth to Draco, she fell in love with him straight away. Her perfect little boy, her beautiful baby, the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. She held him tightly, looked at Lucius, and said, "He'll never be a Death Eater. I won't lose him to that cause. Promise me, Lucius, you'll never let the Dark Lord take him."

Lucius promised. When he broke that promise, she cried for the first time in years. It was the biggest betrayal she'd ever experienced, and for a while she wasn't sure she could forgive him for it.

3. She was devastated by Draco's mission. For her son to be a Death Eater was bad enough – but this way he'd be surely killed. She couldn't lose her son – Narcissa knew losing him would destroy her.

She begged Draco to run away, when Voldemort made his plans clear. It was the first time she'd ever begged anyone. "Please, Draco, please, go - run." She repeated, over and over. She knew that he could be found, and if he was he'd be killed. But she was sure she could hide him abroad – anywhere, anywhere at all. She even sat in front of a globe, seeking the largest countries – so he could be lost in the crowds – and those far enough away. She was desperate to put miles and sea between Voldemort and her son, whatever the cost.

But Draco refused. He rejected her plans, ignored her pleas. When she begged for him to leave, his reply was simply; "I have to. If I don't, he'll kill you."

Even through the pain, the fear, the desperation, some part of her filled with a selfish pride that her son would risk himself to save her.

4. She hadn't really noticed Lucius at school, until he decided he wanted her. She knew her family would be pleased if they married, knew his would be, too. They both came from respectable, pure-blood families, and such a match would uphold the respect. But at the time, she was still young enough to vow she wouldn't marry for status, money, power, but for love, and only love. Much like Andromeda had, in fact, though Narcissa didn't plan to fall in love with a mudblood, of course.

Luckily, she fell for Lucius, before she could grow up enough to forsake her vow. She loved him, truly, though many doubted it, doubted them.

But she kept on loving him, always. Even when he ended up in Azkaban, and allowed Draco to join the Death Eaters. Even when he brought Voldemort into their home. Even though a large part of her screamed to take Draco and run, she couldn't, because she loved Lucius.

For a long time, she thought that made her weak.

5. She wasn't too upset that Harry Potter and the others had escaped. The punishment left her bitter, but she didn't really care that he lived. By that point, she hated Voldemort, despised him, and so the fact that he didn't get what he wanted – Harry dead – was something she took a vindictive pleasure in. But what bothered her was that Draco's wand was gone. A wandless wizard as a vulnerable one – and Draco was in enough danger, without being wandless. And so she decided to give him hers.

But Draco didn't want to take her wand. He was convinced that she'd be unable to protect herself, that she'd be killed. She made him take it, not because he would need it for his schoolwork, but because she knew he'd need to protect himself.

And even if Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters killed her, she would at least know _he_ had a chance of survival.

6. She'd loved growing up with siblings, and she'd wanted two, three children. It was a Malfoy tradition to have one son, the heir, and no more. Daughters were easily married off to good, pure-blood families, and so could be freely born. After one son, however, no more were permitted. She'd been brought up to respect traditions, and though this was one she would have broken, when Lucius told her they would honour it, she didn't argue. A Black witch wasn't brought up to contest traditions.

During her pregnancy, Narcissa prayed for a girl. When Draco was born, despite all her joy at the baby she saw as perfect, her heart ached to know she was unable to have any more children, lest they be sons.

7. She approved of Astoria. Yes, none would be good enough for her son, not really, and she and Astoria did have their arguments. But Draco had been on a downward spiral, on Astoria had stalled. And since she'd somehow managed to pull her son from the darkness, Narcissa couldn't fault her. Astoria made him happy, and it was so good to see her son that way again...But Astoria was, of course, a pure-blood. From one of the old, pure-blood, rich families. And Astoria, like herself, had been raised to respect tradition.

When Draco's wife became pregnant, she wished for him to have more children, too, and prayed he'd be granted a daughter. As much as she loves Scorpius - he and Draco are the most important things in her life - she often wishes for more grandchildren.

But Draco honoured the tradition, as many generations have before him.

8. And then Scorpius, all grown, fell in love. He tried, at first, to hide who he'd fallen for, but it came out after a while – when he grew serious about her, he brought her home to meet the family. And Narcissa was both shocked and amused by his choice – who'd have thought Scorpius would fall for the Potter girl?

Lucius sulked for weeks when their grandson got together with Lily Potter. Personally, Narcissa likes the girl very much, despite her parentage. And, after all, the way Lily was raised had it advantages – Lily had no patience for aged traditions, and, despite having a son, refused to stop there.

Third time lucky, Narcissa ended up with multiple children running around the place. Her great-grandson and his sisters bring the noise and chaos to the manor that she'd always wanted for it.

9. She's never been able to explain just why she risked herself to save Harry's life that day. It was, really, a stupid thing to do. If her lie had been revealed any earlier than it was, she'd have 

been killed. But she'd stopped caring about the war months ago, and she didn't want Voldemort to win, in all truth. But that wasn't why she lied.

He believed she simply wanted to get into the castle. In truth, she knew she could have announced he was alive, let him be really killed, and still get into the castle and find her son.

But when she looked down at him, it stuck her how _young_ he looked. Just a boy, the same age as her Draco. And she just couldn't send him to his death, however cold and cruel she was.

10. It was only after the war that she let herself admit she missed Andromeda. Bella's death hadn't effected her – but she wanted Andromeda, the sister who'd looked after her, comforted her, understood her. And so, forsaking the beliefs she'd been brought up with, lived by, she visited the sister she'd rejected, shortly after the war, in the hopes of rebuilding their relationship. Her wish was granted, but she'll always remember Andromeda's face when she half-hysterically told Narcissa that Bella had killed her daughter. At that moment, Andromeda wasn't the strong one, wasn't the protective, comforting figure she'd been when they were children and teenagers, nor was she the courageous young woman who'd walked out on her family for the man she loved.

She was a broken woman, one who'd lost everything, one who looked so broken, who looked like the world had beaten her.

Until that day, Narcissa hadn't known she was able to comfort people. But she held her sister, cried with her, and left with the knowledge that she had helped Andromeda, if just a little.

Of all the things Bella did, the one thing Narcissa hated her for was her willingness for Draco to die. Nowadays, she hates her more for killing Nymphadora.


	17. Neville Longbottom

I'm pretty sure this could be better, but it'll do. I like the last one. I've made up Neville's kids names.

17. Neville

1. He always saw his parents often. The visits became fewer when he started Hogwarts, but before that he'd go see his parents at least twice a month. Thinking about it later, he wondered if his grandmother needed to remind herself how they were, to make herself believe they wouldn't get better. Or maybe it was to remind him of it – because she certainly told him often enough that his parents were never going to be back to normal. Maybe she was even reminding them both – because he noticed, from a young age, the sheer pain in her eyes when she looked at her son.

And he thought it might be worse for her. Because she, after all, raised his father. Watched him grow up, loved him, was proud of him. And she lost him, more than Neville did. Neville doesn't remember what his parents were like before. He was, after all, barely a year old. No, his only memories of his mum and dad are as they are now.

Sometimes, he strains his memory until his head aches, trying to find something in there, something he can cling to, something of his past, his parents.

He never found anything, though, despite trying for his entire life.

2. His darkest secret - and the one he hates himself for - is that several times while he was growing up, he almost, sort of, a little bit, wished that his parents were just _dead_. It hurt too much to see them that way, and, even though he knows it's eternally selfish, he just though it would be easier to have a clean end to them, to be able to answer the "why don't you live with your parents" question with a simple answer. That he could listen to stories about his mother and father without it being tainted by the image of their empty eyes and expressionless faces.

(But when Frank and Alice Longbottom did finally leave this world, Neville felt the pain and grief wash over him, and acknowledged for the first time that he'd always retained his childish hope that they'd somehow get better. Knowing that there was undeniably no chance of that now made their death so much worse. And the fact that he didn't really know them, that he had nothing to say at their funerals, that everyone acted as though they'd really been gone for a long, long time, made it all so much harder.)

3. He often thought that his grandma was so hard on him because she wanted to use him as a replacement for his father. She wanted him to be his father, all over again, and it was a lot of pressure – which meant every time he attempted magic he'd get nervous and mess it up. When his grandmother – or rather, trying to earn her pride - was his only focus, he barely managed mediocre magic. But then his grandmother wasn't his only focus – in fact, her pride wasn't important to him. There was a war around him, after all, and there were so many things more important than what she thought of him. He didn't just want to be good at magic – he needed to. Failure wasn't an option, a choice.

But it wasn't until that final battle that his grandmother finally hugged him and told him she was proud of him. And he knew she was proud of him, in his own right, for his own achievements, as Neville Longbottom – not of Frank Longbottom's son, who happened to have done something to live up to his father's name. It seemed rather selfish to him, even at the time, surrounded by dead bodies and injured fighters, but that was one of the best moments of his life.

4. He could have been an auror. Kingsley actually personally offered him a place on the training course, even though he hadn't begun re-doing his last year of school. And he helped fix up the ministry, of course, but he wasn't going to start working there, wasn't going to take the place that many people coveted. He turned it down without a thought. He wasn't the only one – Ron Weasley turned down his own offer, helping his brother with the store, instead. So the reactions ranged from surprise to amusement, but no one was angry or disappointed with him. No one tried to change his mind or pressurise him. They simply accepted it.

And believed him, when he insisted the reason was because Herbology is his first love, and he wanted to work in that field. That's only partly true.

If he had become an auror, he'd never have let himself marry or have kids, just in case. And Neville wanted to marry and have kids.

5. He'd had a crush on Hermione from his first year to his fourth. She'd always been nice to him, always been there for him, never judged him. He had a crush on Ginny from the Yule Ball to the end of his fifth year. She forced him to stop putting himself down, she tried her hardest to build up his confidence and self-esteem, and she didn't stick up for him, as others did, understanding that every time someone else fought his battles for him, a little bit of his dignity chipped away. He had a crush on Luna in his sixth year. She was interesting, sweet, and kind, and she, like him, had no proper friends and was sort of out-casted. But in his seventh year, with everything else going on, crushes were childish, pathetic, and not something Neville ever considered.

But, even though they both left during that year, he didn't think he could have survived it without Ginny or Luna. They became more that friends, more than crushes – they became like family to him, and they stayed that way.

6. It was easier than he'd though to act brave and confident and not scared. Easy to hide his terror. Because it was scary, those months at Hogwarts. Hogwarts wasn't Hogwarts anymore, and there were many times when Neville wanted to just go home and hide away, unsure how much longer he could keep this up. But when that final night came, with Voldemort on his way, he didn't consider fleeing. This was it, his fate, his destiny, his purpose, his place – he was supposed to be here, fighting.

But he honestly believed that he'd die that night at Hogwarts. And he was prepared to. It seemed impossible that he would survive – and he didn't honestly believe he was supposed to live. He would fight, help win, and die, because his whole life had been working towards this moment, and this was where it would end. Finding himself alive at the end of it was a shock that took several days to get over.

7. For a while, he had no thought for his future. He was helping the ministry, helping built Hogwarts. And then he was doing temporary jobs – growing plants, or selling them, or assisting in some ministry research. The future still felt like something he shouldn't have, and he didn't know what to do with it. But he and Hannah had been growing closer and closer – during the last year at Hogwarts, the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had all grouped together, depending on each other. But he never expected he and Hannah would end up together. He was as surprised as anyone. It made no sense. And yet he finally felt like he knew what he was supposed to be doing again – he felt like he had a future.

8. He and Hannah swore they'd never name their children after dead people, soon after they decided to have a child. They weren't even pregnant yet when she tentatively asked him if he'd like to name a child for his parents – and he refused instantly. She, when he asked if she wanted to name a daughter for her mother, shook her head violently and paled. And so they agreed that their children were going to have new, clean names.

It wasn't something noble like not wanting them to turn into living memorials. It wasn't something about wanting them to be their own person. It was simply that his parents were still alive, and he couldn't do it, scared of tempting fate. And it was too painful to name their children for the dead they'd loved – too difficult to speak the names.

9. He had a son first, with his own dark hair. He then had two daughters – his youngest girl is blonde, like Hannah. His middle girl, Allison, however, was born with the same colour hair as Hannah's father – red. He was surprised by the dark red tufts – though of course unconcerned by it. Then, later, when Lily shared her Potter-guys-and-red-heads theory, he was rather glad.

After all, watching James Potter grow up meant that Neville felt he could trust the boy with his daughter.

10. He was nervous about taking his children to see his parents for the first time. He had spent so many years standing in front of his parents, waiting, hoping, that they would recognise him, only to be disappointed. Hopefully, he found himself thinking, his children were still too young to understand – Mitch was five, Allison three and Lydia was one. But he and Hannah had decided this was their lot, their family was complete. And so it was time to present the children to his parents.

"Remember, they won't know who you are." He'd said anxiously, causing his son to give him a look.

"I know, daddy. They're not well, I remember." Mitch had replied, in a somewhat hushed voice. Neville couldn't think of a reply, so simply carried on walking. Still, Neville had been worried that his son was expecting something, or that Alli was – and the healers had been very clear – nothing had changed for his parents.

Yet when Frank and Alice Longbottom looked at their grandchildren, Neville swears their eyes lit up.

(Incidentally, all of his children have been presented with various sweet wrappers over the years. Neville had never told them what to do with them, and so is unaware whether any are kept or not.)


	18. Molly Weasley II

Percy's daughter now, which was really hard to write if you were wondering. But I want to work through all the grandkids, so here we go. Oh, and I don't know if Percy's wife was a muggle according to JKR, but I figured I'd make her one, in the name of balance.

18. Molly Weasley (II)

1. When she was seven, Uncle George told her about how her dad had walked out on his family after Voldemort's return. He wasn't trying to cause trouble or anything, but mentioned something to her dad about "that time he went away". So of course she asked about it, and was told the whole sorry story. Her father sat next to Uncle George while he explained, looking ashamed of himself.

It took her several days to forgive her dad for that, especially as he was always telling her and Lucy that there was nothing more important than family. It seemed very hypocritical, and she had, at that point, still been young enough to openly idolise her father. She'd thought that her aunts and uncles and older cousins probably despised her dad for his abandonment, and thought her stupid for loving him. So she spent a few days feeling shamed, both of her father's actions and of the fact that she'd always been a daddy's girl. It had been aunt Ginny who sat her down, told her that yes, it had been a very stupid thing that he'd done, and something that had hurt his family very much. But, she'd said, he'd come back, in the end, and that was what she had to focus on. That, instead of staying away, he'd been brave enough to face up to them and apologise.

So Molly forgave him for that – after all, it had happened years before she'd even been born – but turned her anger to the fact that it had been Uncle George to explain. That her father hadn't given her the courtesy of explaining it himself. This was what she confronted him about – though not loudly or angrily like other members of her family would have done. She'd always been quieter, more placid, than a lot of them. More like her mother, she'd been told. So she went to her father, and asked him why he'd not explained it himself.

To which he looked more vulnerable than any father should, more ashamed. And told her that he hadn't wanted her to know. That he was sorry. That he understood if she hated him. Which, of course, destroyed her anger, and made her crawl into his lap and hug him tightly.

2. Later, she and some of her cousins were talking about names, and it occurred to her that her father's absence would have, of course, hurt his mother very much. And so, she was certain his guilt was reason she was called Molly. That, she'd thought wryly, was hardly enough. Naming a child after someone was the stupidest apology she'd ever heard of.

And it was difficult, bearing the name of her grandmother, of the strongest woman she'd ever known. Someone she loved and feared and admired. It was difficult, feeling that she had to live up to the family matriarch. Until she was thirteen, she'd been certain she ought to be just like Molly Weasley the first, and knew that she couldn't. They just weren't similar, at all. Weren't anything alike, and she couldn't help but feel like a failure because of it. Which is what she ended up telling her grandma, during one rainy afternoon, when the whole family was at the Burrow. She'd been sitting on the stairs, wishing she was fiery like Lucy, or maternal like Victoire. That way, she be more like her namesake...And her grandmother found her, asked what was wrong. She poured it all out before she could help herself, and Molly looked at her guiltily, and hugged her tightly, telling her she was perfect the way she was, and should never, ever change.

"I wouldn't want you any other way, and neither would the rest of us." She'd said gently.

3. Her mother was a muggle, and Molly often thought it was amazing that she was around magic all the time, and took it all in her stride. She always wondered if her mum was jealous that her daughters could do magic and she couldn't. After all, to be in a family where everyone except you could cast spells as naturally as breathing couldn't be easy. And, Molly thought, it was amazing that her mother had managed to go from being an ordinary muggle to running a magical household was admirable, as was the way she'd apparently shifted seamlessly into a whole new world. Once or twice, Molly tried to imagine having to do the reverse – living in a muggle family, as the sole witch, the odd one out. And she couldn't imagine being able to do it.

4. She talks in her sleep. Loudly. Has done since she was a toddle, and could first string broken sentences together. Sometimes she talks coherently – once, she was told she'd recited her transfiguration notes in her sleep, after revising half the night – and sometime she just says random words. It's not every night, just most of them, enough to make her feel embrassed. And it's fine at home, where everyone's used to it, but at school...well, she was terrified of going to Hogwarts for months, scared that her dorm mates would laugh and tease her, or be freaked out by her. Instead, they simply laughed it off, and didn't make a big deal out of it. Plus, one of her friends snores, and so her loud conversations are often drowned out. The other dorm mates have grown used to sleeping through both the snoring and the talking.

5. She's never been a random person, nor an amusing one. She's the serious one, the sensible one. She laughs, and likes to have fun, of course she does. But she isn't sarcastic like Lucy, or Rose, or Lily, and can't tell jokes like Fred or Teddy or James. She doesn't make people laugh. Nor was she ever the kind of child to make amusing statements.

Except for one instant. One occasion, when everyone who was there laughed, and repeated the story to those who weren't, who then also laughed. The one thing her family insists on reminding of often.

When she was four, she announced that when she grew up she wanted to be a unicorn.

6. Teddy Lupin was a part of the family before she was born. He was treated like a grandson by her grandparents, and like a nephew by the other adults. He spent his life staying at several of their houses, and was present at every family party. He was always Victoire's best friend, and like a big brother to James, Albus and Lily, and even Rose and Hugo. He grew up with her family.

But for several years, she didn't trust Teddy at all, because he could _change how he looked_. It scared her, really. How could anyone who could do that be trustworthy? And he'd appear at the Burrow looking like a completely different person. It wasn't natural, she thought. And, for a long time, she didn't understand why he was a part of her family.

And then, she changed her mind. She trusted him, she loved him, just like the others.

7. Right before this change, she saw a picture of his parents. She told her Grandma Molly she thought the lady in the picture was very pretty, and cried when she realised the lady was dead. She'd never thought to ask where Teddy's parents were – it had just always been that way, him having only his grandmother – and finding out they were dead, killed on the same night as Uncle George's twin, upset her. An empathic child, she instantly felt for the orphan, for the boy who'd never known his parents.

And that, she suspects, is what changed her mind about him.

8. The sorting hat actually considered sending her into Slytherin. Only for a few seconds, while she'd sat frozen, unable to speak, while the hat muttered to itself. After a while, it decided she wasn't Slytherin enough, and put her with the rest of the family. She never told any of them, but for several days, she believed that the one of the teachers were going to tell her that hat had changed its mind and she had to leave Gryffindor and move into Slytherin. It took her weeks to relax, to believe no one was going to make her move.

And then after that, she pretends, even to herself, that the hat didn't consider it at all. She never told anyone about it, and never let herself think about it.

9. She's extremely afraid of penguins. Not, of course, that she'd ever come into contact with a real one. Well, once, when her mother took her to a muggle zoo, and lifted her up so she could see the horrible little creatures. She was seven, and once she'd realised what she was looking at, she'd screamed, burst into tears, locked her arms tightly around her mother, lest she be dropped into the enclosure, and buried her face in her mother's neck, much to the amusement of her sister and the surrounding muggle. It's an experience she refuses to talk about.

But even when she sees picture of penguins in books, there's a stab of fear. Or when she hears the word (which, of course, causes several of her cousins to stand behind her and yell "Penguin!"). She doesn't know why, but suspects Uncle George probably caused it.

10. It took Lucy a while to settle on her career. Rose spent much of her seventh year obsessing about what she should choose, not knowing what she wanted to do. Most of Molly's friends spent fifth year reading over leaflets, discussing the pros and cons of different careers, and asking each other for advice. Molly did none of these things; by her fifth year she had nothing to discuss, having collected all the information she'd needed.

She decided in her third year what she wanted to do as a career. Years later, she was back at Hogwarts, teaching Charms.

If anyone wants to know, after this we've got George's daughter, Roxanne, then Sirius, then Ginny, then Tonks, and then Hermione. And that's all I've got written so far.


	19. Roxanne Weasley

Now aren't I nice? It's not even been a full twenty-four hours since I last updated, yet here's the next one. And to englishgrlverity the Weasley grandkids name are on the family tree JKR published. It's on her website if you want to look.

19. Roxanne

1. Her mother chose her name. Roxanne never bothered asking where it came from; she knew she wasn't named after anyone, and so it doesn't bother her where the name came from. She likeds the name. When you think about it, there are much worse ones out there. So all in all, she likes Roxanne. It's just a pity no one ever called her it. Always, for as long as she can remember, her name has been shortened, due to what she insists is laziness. When she'd tried to get people to use the full name (at fourteen it seemed much more grown up and sophisticated that way) they could never seem to manage it for long. Even when in trouble, her mother wouldn't use her full name.

What was the point of naming her Roxanne, if _everyone_ was going to call her Roxy or Rox?

2. She was pretty smart, and tried hard in school, determined to get good grades. She was trying to prove herself, she realised later. To prove that she wasn't just the daughter of George Weasley, wasn't just the niece of Harry Potter, and of Fred Weasley, whose name was clear on the memorial plague. She managed the grades, too, in most subjects (Runes had been a big mistake). Maybe that was why everyone was so shocked when she simply worked at one of WWW. Fred even told her he'd expected her to go be a healer.

3. A healer? No, she'd work hard in school to prove herself, but _extra _education? And a job as complex and difficult as a healer? Nah, she'd always wanted to work in the family business. Which is what she'd told Fred. After making sure she was completely serious, he'd told her that they weren't as different as he'd thought. She knew he was mostly joking, but it hurt a little. She'd never thought they were all that different.

What was stranger, though, was her dad sitting her down at telling her that she didn't have to work at for the WWW. That she shouldn't feel she had to. That he wanted her to have dreams, to follow them. Eventually she convinced him that a job with the WWW was what she wanted, but she loved knowing she'd have support if she ever changed her mind.

(Incidentally, she insisted on having an job suitable for her qualifications – she wanted to start at the bottom and work her way up. Her dad reluctantly agreed. But after a month of working there, she was promoted. And while George insists that she earned it, she'd aware that, were she not his daughter, she'd have been lucky to get the initial job, never mind the promotion.)

4. She knew that her father had had a twin, and he'd died. She'd seen the pictures, and heard some stories. But it wasn't until she was five that she asked how he'd died. Later, she thought she ought to have asked her mother, but at five it had made sense to ask her father. His face had gone momentarily blank, and then he'd pulled her onto his knee and explained everything. About the war. About her uncle's death. She'd gotten upset, started crying, and her dad had told her other, funny, stories. Of when he was young – giving Uncle Ron acid pops, stealing Uncle Percy's headboy badge. Tales of jokes and Quidditch, of how the store had always been their dream, and how exciting and terrifying it had been opening it for the first time – but how he felt better knowing that Fred was there.

Her mother had walked in while they were both laughing over a story, and had asked what the joke was, a smile on her face. The smile had faded when Roxy had replied, "Daddy's telling me about Uncle Fred." Her mum had seemed to think her dad would be upset; instead, he'd been enjoying remembering.

A few weeks later she overheard Grandma Molly saying she'd been too young to hear about the war, the deaths. To which her father had replied that he wasn't going to lie to anyone, ever, about Fred. That he was going to be proud, and make sure his children, his nephews and nieces, would always know about him.

5. As much as she'd loved hearing about her Uncle – and would like to in the future – somehow she made a connection between her father's brother and her own. They were both called Fred; her father had lost his, and what if she lost her own? For nearly a full year, before she turned six, she had nightmares about her brother dying. She told only her mother, who sighed sadly and tried to explain that just because the first Fred Weasley was dead, it didn't mean her brother was in danger. Eventually the nightmares subsided, and she gave little thought to them.

Until Fred turned twenty. At eighteen, she was probably too old for irrational fears, but she couldn't help herself – she worried about her brother. What if there was some kind of jinx, or curse, on his name...? (Then he turned twenty-one, and she breathed easy again.)

6. As much as she loves working at the WWW, she couldn't deny that she was more like her mother than her father. Not just in looks, but personality. She has a sense of humour - how could she not, growing up with George Weasley's influence? - but she lacks his and her brother's creativity, imagination, and recklessness. That's why none of WWW products list her as co-creator. It's also why her parents received very few letters from Hogwarts about her behaviour, while they had a drawer full about Fred's. Sometimes it bothers her a little, and there's been nights where she laid awake, trying to think of any kind of product for the store. But eventually she accepted it, and found herself more comfortable with the business side.

7. During her first year, a small group of older pupils picked on her for being rich. They were jealous, she supposed, but for an eleven year old it was difficult. It wasn't as though she flaunted it or anything; her father made sure she never had anything less than the best, but the wasn't excessive, and she didn't make a big deal out of it. So for people to act as though she was a bad person because her father was successful hurt. She was determined to ignore them, but after a while told her brother about it. She'd just been trying to vent a little, but when they stopped, she knew it was down to Fred.

8. She once read somewhere that the people who love you most can see the hurt in your eyes, even when you smile. She was, at the time, around eleven and found it to be stupid. Poetic, she decided, but stupid. She'd looked in mirrors, and seen no emotion in her eyes. She'd looked at other people, and seen no emotions in theirs. Well, other than laughter. But at eleven, she disregarded the statement as nonsense.

It wasn't until years later that she remembered reading it. And started to think about all the times someone in the family had found her, and persisted in asking her what was wrong until she stopped denying and explained. From then on, she started noticing it more, and though it was sometimes unnerving, and often annoying, she loves it really – loves knowing she's safe and loved.

9. No one in the family lies to Roxy. They haven't really done so since she was nine, and spent fifteen minutes screaming at her brother and James for lying to her. It had been something silly, but it had annoyed her greatly. Since then her cousins have always chosen to tell her the truth; and after a while so did the adults in her family. She hates lies. More than anything else in the world. She's not even sure why – it's just always bothered her, even the little white lies.

And so her friends and family always tell her the truth, in order to avoid her rage – which, when she's pushed far enough, matches her maternal grandmother's perfectly.

10. She collects photographs. She takes them, too, at every opportunity. She has countless photo albums, way too many on display, and boxes of loose pictures under her bed and in her wardrobe. At every family gathering she has a camera; she both takes candid pictures and forces the family to pose. When asked just why she obsesses with pictures, she will always say she has no idea. But in truth, she figured it out at the age of nineteen.

She's afraid. Has been since the first time she learned her father had once had an extra brother. The fear isn't really that a loved one will die – or not entirely, anyway. She's scared she won't remember them. She has, after all, no memories of her Uncle Fred. And while she knows it would be different if her brother, parents, cousins or aunts and uncles died, she can't help worrying that if one of them dies she'll forget them. Forget the way they look, forget the little things about them.

So Roxy takes pictures of the people who matter, tries to catch every memory on film, and fears that it isn't enough.


	20. Sirius Black

Yep, three updates in a row. Partly because I got masses of reviews last time - thanks for that - and partly because I've written chapter 26 now, and decided I don't like being so ahead of the story. So here's Sirius.

20. Sirius

1. When he was very, very little, he really did believe that pure-bloods were better, that Blacks were superior, and that his parents would love him no matter what.

Andromeda's his favourite cousin for showing him that everything he believed was wrong.

She was the one to start his doubts; looking him in the eye when he was six and asking him if he really believed that muggle-borns were bad. Sirius spent a lot of time thinking about that, and asked his parents why muggle-borns were so bad. That was the way he'd phrased it – muggle-borns. His father had looked surprised, and told him that they just were, in the same way that Blacks were better than most. Sirius found it hard to believe; and found it hard to believe his family to be better.

When Andromeda ran away with a muggle-born, when her family and his disowned her, told him to forget she ever existed, he realised that their family didn't deal in unconditional love.

2. James was the first real friend he ever made. James, even after hearing Sirius's surname, after hearing that he belonged to a family of Slytherin's, just accepted him for himself – in a way few other people had. He may have sided with James during arguments, most of the time, he may have been able to read James better, and usually have confided in James first. He may have gone to James's when he ran away from home. He and James may have been the closest, but he loved his friends all the same. Even Wormtail, who usually irritated him to the point of madness, inspired a protective kind of affection in him – the kind, Sirius had thought, one might feel for a much younger brother – he didn't really understand him, often thought of him as little more than a tag along, and was annoyed by him, but he'd grown to love him despite it. That's why it hurt so much when Lily and James were killed; they were dead, it was Peter's fault, and Remus didn't believe in him. In a way, he'd lost them all.

And, even after Azkaban, he didn't know how he'd ever survived without them.

3. He'd never admit it, but he only ever forgave Remus ninety-eight per cent for believing him to be on Voldemort's side, for believing him the spy. He'd never admit it, but he never forgave himself at all for believing Remus to be on Voldemort's side, for believing him the spy.

Remus had been instantly trusted, instantly liked. Remus was vulnerable, more so than he'd admit. From the first time he'd met him, Sirius had complete confidence in Remus. He'd depended on him, more times than he could count. The fact that he didn't believe in him when it mattered most was something Sirius hated himself for. The guilt was worse than it had been the first time he'd betrayed him – at the age of sixteen.

He hadn't thought about Remus. Hadn't really thought about it at all. Just thought it would be funny to scare Snape; figured the boy would see the werewolf, and run. Possibly wet himself. It never occurred to him that Remus might attack – maybe he was just too used to Remus _not_ being a monster. But until he told James what he'd done, until James had gone suddenly pale, and asked if he was crazy, jumping up and saying that Remus would kill Snape, the danger just hadn't occurred to him. But when James ran, across the grass to the tree, Sirius found himself leaning back against the cold brick wall, thinking about what it would do to Remus to know he'd killed. That it would destroy him, and hating himself for using his best friend that way.

It took weeks for Remus to forgive him; And Sirius never forgave himself.

(It was that night, after being told off by Dumbledore, yelled at by James, and given the silent treatment by Remus, that Sirius first considered the fact that he was, in fact, not completely sane.)

4. He'd always craved freedom. By the time he was nine, and he'd realised that he was different from his parents, from the extended family that they had contact with, he felt like a prisoner, like a creature in the wrong cage at a zoo. And all he wanted was to be away from here, from them. Hogwarts was his chance at that; finally he was among people he could identify with, away from his parents warped beliefs. When he was at Hogwarts, he'd often stand outside, and remind himself how happy he was there. When at home, he'd often stand outside, and remind himself that one day, he'd be away from here. When he was at James's, he'd stand outside and remind himself that there were people who loved him and would be there for him no matter what. When he got his own place, he'd stand outside and remind himself that he was free.

In Azkaban, he'd sit in his cell, in the dark, and tell himself that one day, one day, he be able to stand outside again.

5. That's why he hated being shut up at Grimmauld Place so much. Being back there, at the house he'd hated, and not even being able to stand outside. He couldn't stand outside, breathe the fresh air, and tell himself he was happy, or that he'd one day be away again, or that people loved him and were there for him, or that he was free. And if he couldn't tell himself that, how was he supposed to believe it?

Instead, he sat inside the house, and brooded about James and Lily, about Voldemort and Wormtail, about Harry and Remus. And he was scared – Azkaban had changed him, and he could tell. And he was terrified that the insanity that haunted his family, the insanity he'd wondered about at sixteen, the insanity he believe was inside him, was preparing to take hold.

He'd watched family members lose their minds, and he was petrified it would happen to him.

6. He was heartbroken when Regulus died. They may not have seen each other in too long, they may not have spoken properly to each other in even longer, but he was Sirius' little brother, and he felt like he'd failed him by not protecting him. Things had gone downhill from the moment Sirius had gone to Hogwarts. With him no longer there to try and protect his brother from their mother's rants, their father's criticisms, Regulus became desperate to please them. With him no longer there to shield his brother from his parents pure-blood beliefs, Regulus began to believe them.

And Sirius felt his brother slipping away from him long before Regulus entered Hogwarts himself, and was sorted into the one house Sirius had desperately wished he wouldn't be.

7. Maybe it was the effects of Azkaban, maybe it was just because he couldn't face the reality, but a part of him always believed that if they could kill Voldemort, there'd be some way to bring back Lily and James. He tried to tell himself it was crazy, impossible, but he'd always be able to rationalise it – no one had ever killed Voldemort, there was no proof it wouldn't happen. Voldemort had boasted of magic no one else knew off – maybe if the magic was undone, the deaths would be too.

But he couldn't completely believe they were gone forever.

8. He knew, from the moment he saw Ginny Weasley look at Harry that the two of them would end up married. They'd both been too young to even consider such things, of course, but Sirius knew. Maybe it was because of the way she looked at him – it was obvious to him, as a stranger, that she still harboured the feelings that she'd convinced those closest to her had died. Maybe it was because she looked like someone who made sure she got what she wanted. Maybe it was something as simple as the red hair.

Maybe it was the way Harry looked at her. No one else seemed to notice it, and Sirius was convinced that Harry was unaware of his barely-developed feelings there, but he saw them. Sirius found Harry as easy to read as he'd found James.

9. He always knew he'd be murdered. Even as a small child, when he'd thought of his death (which, though not a topic most children dwell on, had been something he'd frequently thought of) he'd known he'd be murdered. It was possibly just bloodthirsty child's imagination, but as he grew older, Sirius considered it an instinct. So as much as he wanted to survive the war, he figured his chances weren't all that great.

By the time he'd reached his mid-teens, he'd often though it would be a member of his own family to kill him. Half of them were crazy, after all, and none were forgiving – he'd have been unsurprised if any one of them had come after him.

(Still, he wouldn't have _minded _being wrong, just this once.)

10. Right up until James and Lily's death, he thought he'd, one day, get married and have kids of his own. No as quickly as they did, of course – he wasn't nearly ready for that. But in a few years, he figured he'd meet a nice girl (and he rather hoped for a muggle-born one, just to spite his family a little more) get married and have a bunch of kids. He'd wanted a lot of them, to create a the big, loving family he'd never had. In the second that he realises he's about to die, his life doesn't flash before his eyes; instead, he regrets that his life was so empty.

(He'd have liked to have been a husband and a father, even if he didn't think he'd be very good at it.)


	21. Ginny Weasley

Updating again, even though am sleep-deprived, 'cause I'm awesome and so are you lot. I apologise for any little mistakes, but I'm running on little sleep.

21. Ginny

1. She and Ron were always close growing up, as they were born only a year apart. So while Fred and George were always together, with their inside jokes and their own little world, and Bill and Charlie were all older and with little time to hang around with the younger ones, and Percy was...well, Percy, she and Ron stuck together. Ginny watched as, one by one, each off her brothers left for Hogwarts, and it hurt, but watching Ron leave was the worst. She was so used to having him around, used to him being beside her on the platform, waving and telling her they had only a few years to go before they'd be aboard that train. It wasn't until she was nine that she even realised he'd be heading to Hogwarts before her. She'd been present every time her brothers had left for Hogwarts; Ron's first trip was the only one she cried at. He was more than her brother – at that moment in time, he was her best friend, and she hated him for leaving her almost as much as she missed him.

When she finally went to Hogwarts, she was a little upset that Ron had made his own friends. Of course, it was great that he was friends with the Harry Potter, and Hermione seemed nice too, but Ron had little time for her. Though he made a point of talking to her if he passed her in the corridor, though he would talk to her at meals if she sat near him, it was painfully obvious to Ginny that their relationship had changed. She would, perhaps, always be closer to Ron that to her other brothers, but they were no longer best friends – she was now just his little sister.

He has no idea, to this day, how much that hurt her, how devastated she was. She told no one, ever – but wrote it in Tom Riddle's diary.

2. She always knew her brothers could be counted on when she needed them the most. They'd been there her whole life, protecting her and looking out for her, and usually being nice to her. For a lot of years when she was little, they treated her like fragile glass, like a delicate little girl and were very careful with her. Of course, she soon taught them that Ginny Weasley could hold her own, but there was always something still left subtly in the way the interacted with her. She always figured that whatever she did they'd always be there to help and support her. And even though she knew that none of them could be any help at all in her sorting, when she looked across the hall and saw that Ron wasn't there, her terror increased, and a sense of hurt developed.

Because he'd promised her he'd be there, and he wasn't. He had, however accidentally, let her down, broke his word. So, despite the fact that, for all she knew, he could be dead or injured or anything, the broken promise hurt. And though she later accepted his somewhat awkward apology, it was difficult for her to forgive.

3. When she thinks about her first year, all she remembers is the diary, Tom Riddle, and the fear. The end, the horrible end, when those she loved knew what she'd done, what she'd let happen, how stupid she been. So she doesn't think about her first year, and she pretends that she doesn't still have nightmares occasionally, doesn't still have the mental scars from that ordeal. After everything else that happened, when she was a little older, it annoys her that such an old experience still haunts her.

When James, at eight, asked her about her first year - expecting, no doubt, for her to tell him the same stories of magic and wonder and beauty that everyone else had told him, she dropped bottle of ink she was holding, and simply stared at him, wondering if she should tell him the truth – they'd promised, the day James was born, that they'd never lie to him, or any children they may go on to have, but she wasn't sure she wanted him to know this – and wondering how she was supposed to explain.

Harry, understanding, simply led James from the room. She knows he told her eldest about what happened, but James has never asked about it, or brought it up (though she knows he's shared it with his brother and sister, and possibly a few of his cousins). She also knows that Harry didn't tell James not to mention it to her, to bring it up. Her son was trying, in his own innocent way, to protect her. She loves that boy.

4. She'd wanted, at a younger age, for all her kids to have Harry's eyes. Dwelled on it, day-dreamed about it, when she was an innocent girl – not yet even a teenager – who believed in romance and true love and happily-ever-afters. She would have a few kids, she decided – not quite as many as her own parents, because she was old enough to realise how much they stuggled to make ends meet, to feed and clothe so many kids, and refused to put her own future family through that. So just a few, with Harry's eyes. Maybe some would have her hair; some could have his. Little Ginny spent many hours passing time imagining such a future – though, of course, with the things happening around her, she lost her faith in romance, true love, and happily-ever-afters, and instead of dreaming about emerald-eyed children, simply hoped they'd all make it through alive.

When James was born with her own brown eyes, however, she found that she didn't care, not even a little. When Albus was born with Harry's green, she didn't even notice. Because, really, the colour of their eyes means nothing to her. If things had been different – if Harry's luck had ran out, if her skills had failed her – she wouldn't have been able to have them, hold her. And as far as Ginny's concerned, her kids are perfect.

5. She'd liked Sirius very much, from the first moment she met him. He wasn't like most adults - he was pretty much a teenager, mentally. He didn't treat her like a child. And she was still young enough to find the fact that he'd managed to escape from Azkaban, to escape capture for so long, very cool. When Harry had the vision of Sirius, trapped and being tortured, she was terrified, and determined to help rescue him. If Harry had refused to let her come with him, she'd have followed anyway. That's why, when it turned out Harry had lead them there for no reason, and that if they hadn't gone Sirius wouldn't have died, she didn't blame Harry. Because in all honesty, she'd have done entirely the same thing.

But because they failed to save him, and because the man died trying to save _them, _it was she who chose James' middle name.

(Had she known she would go on to have another son, she may have saved that name, used it instead of Albus.)

6. She can still remember the day Percy walked. She, Ron, Fred and George sat on the stairs listening to the argument in horror. They watched him walk out. And she, though she didn't admit it, kept waiting for him to come home, and each day that he didn't was like a little stab in the heart. Though she forgave him – not straight away, but a few weeks after he'd returned to them – though she still, of course, loves him, a small part of her will always hate Percy just a little for abandoning his family at the start of the war. She'll never forgive him for disenchanting the young girl who'd believed her brothers would always be there for her.

And she'll never forget the instant she saw Fred's body, far, far too still. Never forget the feeling that washed over her as she realised that he was dead – dead and gone and never coming home. A small part of her will always hate Fred a little bit for dying, for showing her that, not only could her brothers leave her temporarily, but they could leave her forever, completly. She'd never felt so alone as when she looked at Fred's lifeless body, and never has done since.

7. Still, it wasn't until she saw Harry laying in Hagrid's arms that she really felt all hope was lost, that they were all going to die. To lose. She threw herself recklessly into that battle, deciding that if she was going down, she'd take as many Death Eaters as she could with her. She no longer cared about living – she remembers thinking that she was already dead, anyway – and simply wished to cause destruction, to cause pain and death to those who'd taken her brother and Harry, Remus and Tonks, who'd destroyed lives and families and hearts. When she heard Hagrid's voice calling for Harry – Harry's body was missing – she knew – she realised with a jolt that he was alive. And still, despite the relief, despite the slight burst of new-born hope, she still felt that her own time was up – that this was her end. She duelled Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' murderer, with a determination she'd never felt before. Bellatrix, who killed Sirius, who'd taken Neville's parents in the cruellest way.

And even though she was always proud of her mother for finally ending Bellatrix, she still sort of wishes it had been her to do so.

8. She'd always been a good liar. And she always been good at pretending. During her sixth year, when Voldemort was in power, Hogwarts was a mess, and Harry, Ron and Hermione were off somewhere, she told the D.A that everything was going to be fine, that Ron, Harry and Hermione were going to fix this, beat him. She even convinced most of them. She never once, faltered in front of any of them, never once dropped the facade, even a little.

But almost every night she'd cry silently, wondering if tomorrow would be that day her brother, her friend and the boy she loved would be killed. And, multiple times, she broke down in front of Neville, because the strain of not knowing, of pretending, of not sleeping and having to force herself to eat had grown too much for her. Most regard that final battle as the worst night Hogwarts had ever seen, the worst experience possible. For Ginny, that night was a much needed end – a messy, painful, horrific end, but one all the same. It was the nights that came before it that, for her, were the worst.

9. She does love cats. Not just domestics, but the big cats too - Tigers, Lions, Cheetahs and all the rest. As a young child, she had a slight obsession with them, collecting teddies and pictures, and begging and pleading for a kitten of her own. (Originally, she asked for a tiger, but soon realised that that wasn't going to happen.) And though she counts herself as an animal lover, though the first thing she did when she moved in with Harry was get herself a kitten, there was one creature even she couldn't like.

In all her years at Hogwarts, she would have loved to curse Mrs. Norris as much as anyone else.

10. She refused to go back to Hogwarts after the battle. Everyone told her she should, but she just couldn't face going back into that castle. How could she eat in the hall where Fred's body had lain? Or walk the corridors where she seen people murdered? Or sit in the grounds where Remus and Tonks had died? Her father understood instantly, and told her quietly that she didn't have to go, if she didn't want to. Molly was only slightly less accepting, and though she still, once in a while, laments her youngest's unfinished education, Ginny knows her mother understands perfectly, and doesn't blame her a little.

Instead, she managed to get a place on the Holyhead Harpies reserve team, and spent much of her time with Teddy Lupin. For that first year after the battle, he was her lifeline. He gave her hope for the future, gave her simple enjoyment with every smile. By the time he was four, she regarded him as some kind of son, and had silently sworn to Tonks and Remus that she would take care of their boy the best she could. That was why seeing him go to Hogwarts was as hard as watching her own children go. That was why, while growing up, Teddy would come to her for advice, often before even Harry. That was why, even after he'd married Victoire, he visited her as often as he could.

As far as she's concerned, Teddy's family. After all, blood doesn't, and shouldn't, make a family.


	22. Nymphadora Tonks

Just in case anyone's wondering, number three isn't hinting at any slash. I mean the love in a purely friendship kind of way.

22. Tonks

1. She wasn't trying to be bratty, or dramatic, or interesting, or _anything _by hating her name. She wasn't pretending - she really did hate the name. It just wasn't _her. _Even as a child, she'd cringe when her mother used it, wince when strangers used it, horribly aware that now they'd always think of her as _Nymphadora_, which was the worst possible name ever, in her opinion. By the time she was nine, she was trying out new names – but since no one would use any of the names she came up with – Helena, Penelope, Scarlet, Kaitlin, Lila, Jewel, and anything else she could come up with – she turned her attention to trying to edit her first name. Dora was her father's idea, and he liked it so much he stuck to it - In truth, she didn't like the name Dora, either, but she let her father, and then Remus, call her that, because she loved them. She didn't come up with Tonks until she started Hogwarts, and the teachers used it. Though she didn't really consider it a good name, she decided she liked it enough to go by.

Plus, it was easier to tell people to only use her surname than to ask them to call her Penelope.

2. Sirius was the only cousin she had any contact with. Her father had been an only child; her mother was, of course, estranged from her family – except Sirius, who, even as a teenager would sneak out of his house to visit. But being the only cousin didn't stop him being the best, in her opinion. He'd lift her in the air and spin her around, as if she weighed nothing, and tickle her until she couldn't breathe and bring her sweets and tell her stories about Hogwarts, or tell her where all the secret passages were. She was devoted to him, named her first pet (the first of many goldfishes and hamsters whose lives were tragically short) after him, drew mountains of pictures for him, and sort of wanted to marry him when she grew up.

She wasn't told, at first, why he'd gone away, why he was locked up, but she say the papers, the headlines. It was a mistake, of course. A lie. It couldn't possibly be true – and when she went to Hogwarts, she got into several fights while defending his innocence – the only person in the world, she once thought bitterly, who believed in him. Because, though she was never allowed to visit him, nor write or have any contact at all, she knew he couldn't be guilty, not of that.

Could he...?

(In actual fact, it was this near doubtless belief in Sirius that fuelled her desire to be an auror. Someone had to catch the bad guys, and they had to do it right, not imprison innocent people.)

3. Meeting him again after all those years was weird, to be honest. Slightly awkward. Not only because she'd spent the last few years trying to forget about him (his escape, after all, had challenged her belief in his innocence, and it was much easier on her to not think about him) but because they'd both changed as they'd gotten older. And she was no longer a child who loved him with her entire heart and was blind to his flaws, and he was no longer an easy going young man with the same humour and confidence that inspired utter faith. It was hard to get over the awkwardness, to adjust to each other, to develop a new dynamic.

But it was much, much harder when he died. She was just getting to _know_ him again, just getting used to having an extended family, like other people, even if that extended family consisted of just one person. Just learning to love this Sirius, the man he was now, rather that the boy he'd been. And for him to die (and wasn't it, at least just a little, her fault for not beating Bellatrix herself?) to leave her, again without a goodbye, without any warning or preparation was almost unbearable.

4. When she saw Remus' intense grief over Sirius' death, she felt a little guilty, because she didn't feel nearly as bad as he did. And Sirius was _her _own flesh and blood. But for a long time, Sirius had been all Remus had, the only person in the world who he loved and who loved him. And once she'd recognised and accepted that, she resolved to spend some time with him, because he needed her.

That was also when she fell in love with him. Prior to that, she'd had a vague interest in him, an attraction, without holding much hope that he'd return her feelings. But they'd sit up for most of the night, just talking, growing closer and close, bearing their souls.

And, really, it had been impossible not to fall in love with his soul. Still, as hard as she tried to talk him round, to convince him, she wasn't sure he'd ever love her back. Not until that time she kissed him, just kissed him, and he kissed her back intensely. That was when she knew he loved her too, whatever he said, and when she knew she had to, had to try and make something with this man.

5. She saw Bellatrix Lestrange once as a child. In Diagon Alley, where she was shopping with her mother, at around seven years old. Bella was surrounded by people, all of which looked scary to Dora. She first thought that the lady was beautiful, but looked mean. Like an evil princess, Dora decided, one who would kill the wicked witch, and the prince who came to help her. The kind of person, Dora thought, rather enjoying herself, who would kick puppies and swear at kittens and steal sweets from children and stamp on flowers just because they were pretty.

Then the lady looked at her and her mother, and her expression terrified little Nymphadora, who, though she wanted to hide behind her mum, couldn't look away from her. Her mother, however, swiftly pulled her away, and straight home, even though they hadn't yet bought half the things they'd gone for.

It was her dad who explained who the woman was, and that she was technically related to her, and the reason why she never saw her. For a full week, she had nightmares about that women, despite swearing to her father that she wasn't afraid.

6. When Remus wouldn't give them a chance, she thought it was the worst time of her life. And it did leave her lovesick, as well as angry with him. When he left her, pregnant, alone and full of more pain and anger than she'd ever felt before, and fear, because how exactly was she supposed to raise a child alone, she thought _that_ was the worst moment of her life. When her dad died, killed only because of his blood, only still in the country because she was pregnant and he hadn't wanted to travel abroad and be too far away in case she needed him, she was convinced that was the worst she could ever feel.

But when she passed her baby, the one thing she loved more than life itself, to her mother, when she kissed him goodbye and knew she was unlikely to return, that was the worst moment, the worst feeling, ever.

7. She'd always planned on, one day, having children. Far into the future, when she wasn't so young, so clumsy. When the war was over. When her child would be safe. She even let herself day-dream, a little, about children, just after her wedding. A bunch of kids, a noisy, cluttered home. Children, to show Remus how fun life could be, to make him smile. Children, for her to shower with affection. In the future.

Her first thought, when she learned of her pregnancy, was that she was doing it all wrong. She was still young, still clumsy, the war was still on and no one was safe. But even as she scolded herself for it, she found herself thinking in amazement that she was going to be a mother. That she and Remus were going to have a baby. And she didn't care about how young she was, how clumsy, didn't care about the war.

And when Teddy was finally born - and all that waiting nearly drove her crazy - she knew that, even though it wasn't the right time, it was worth it, would all be worth it, because he was _perfect._

8. She thought the Weasley family were the best family in the world. The way Arthur treated her like a daughter, the way Molly treated her like a mixture of friend and daughter. The way she and Ginny grew into close friends, and the way the twins would tease her. The way she and Bill got on well, and would laugh about Molly's match-making attempts. The way Ron would laugh at her jokes, and share his own. The way Charlie remembered her from Hogwarts, laughing with her at Bill's wedding, saying how weird it was that she'd been accepted into his family even though he hadn't seen her in years.

She hoped that, one day, she and Remus would have a family like that, with a sprawling house and a mess of kids.

9. As she hurried through the castle, searching for Remus, hoping against all hope that he was still alive, desperately telling herself they'd see this end, return home, and that she could hold her boy again, the thing that struck her the most was all the kids. Teenagers, fighting grown men and women. Teenagers, risking their lives. Teenagers, who were barely more than children, being injured or killed. It didn't matter that some of them were barely years younger than herself; their faces still held the look of youth, their eyes shone with fear. She was a mother, now, she was a wife, she was an auror, and so to Tonks, the teenagers were far younger than she. And they didn't belong here, in the battle, with the danger. She thought of Ginny, upstairs, being forced to hide, and realised what hadn't occurred to her before, while she'd been worried about Remus. That Ginny wouldn't stay hidden. Ginny would join the battle. Ginny would fight.

She was torn for a moment. Between finding Remus, making sure he was alive, and between going back, making sure Ginny stayed safe. And between just fighting, just taking down as many Death Eaters as she could manage, because that way, they wouldn't be able to hurt these children. It was the woman, the friend, and the mother, warring within her, and Tonks forced herself to make a decision.

She'd fight, she decided, but make her way back upstairs as fast as she could while she did so. She'd make sure Ginny was OK, make sure Ginny stayed hidden, and if she couldn't manage that, she'd keep Ginny with her, keep her safe. Then she'd work her way back downstairs – fighting – and outside, and find Remus. That's what she'd do.

10. She stopped worrying about dying herself. All thoughts of never making it home had vanished. She was surrounded by children, and so concerned with their survival that she didn't worry about herself. She pushed one young boy to the ground, so a curse sailed over them, rather than striking them, and cursed the Death Eater – killed him – as she ran. She'd never killed before, but Tonks was hardly aware of what she done. This wasn't murder, this was survival, this was ensuring the survival of the kids around her.

She skidded to a halt, wrapping one arm around the post at the end of a staircase in order to anchor herself, raised her wand, and cursed the Death Eater a few feet away, sending his aim off, meaning the killing curse he'd aimed at a young girl went, instead, to the wall three feet above her. The young girl, with a round, childish face and fading innocence in her eyes, lived.

Bellatrix Lestrange stepped out of the shadows, and took advantage of Tonks' distraction to kill her niece. Tonks had saved the girl, but wouldn't ever hold her son again.


	23. Hermione Granger Weasley

Updating again, just for you lot. Not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow, my English classes are cancelled all week, so I might be able to get on the computer before I go to Psycology. We'll see. If not, it'll be Wednesday.

23. Hermione

1. She hated being an only child. It was possibly the reason she and Harry grew sibling-like feelings for each other – he sought any kind of family, and she sought a brother or sister. Ron, who, after all, had all siblings he needed, wasn't looking for a surrogate brother or sister, nor was he willing to become one. So she and Harry found something in one another that they lacked, and developed a bond as strong as if they had been tied by blood.

2. She realised in her fourth year that she had slightly-more-than-friendly feelings for Ron. During their third year, he had hurt her deeply by alienating her from the trio, but when he appeared not to realise she was girl around the time of the Yule Ball, it hurt almost the same, forcing her to ask herself just why she wanted him to notice her, just why she wanted him to ask her to the Ball, and just why the fact that he seemed jealous pleased her as much as it annoyed her.

Of course, she didn't know exactly how to handle the answer she found, so slipped into denial. She maintained that denial until her sixth year, when she told herself that life was too short, the future so uncertain, and talked herself into taking a risk. Then she saw him wrapped around Lavender Brown, and realised that those slightly-more-than-friendly feelings for him were actually considerably-more-than-friendly.

3. During that hellish year the three of them were in hiding, trying to locate the Horcruxes, she realised she was actually in love with him. It wasn't the way he was so protective of her, or the way he attempted to comfort her, or even when he walked out on them, although she thought then that there was a possibility, due to the anguish she was trapped in without him. It wasn't when he finally came back, either, though she had never felt so pleased and so angry at the same time, not even with him, and he'd always had the ability to create strong, conflicting emotions in her.

Not, it was when Bellatrix Lestrange had seized her, and he was frantically begging the witch to torture him instead of her. The fact that he was willing to do that, and the fact that she knew she wouldn't let him, that she would face the torture to spare him, made her realise that she loved him. And while Bellatrix was torturing her, Hermione focused on the sound of Ron's voice, screaming for her, telling herself that he loved her too, and that they'd be OK. She sometimes thinks that if she hadn't heard him screaming, yelling, sobbing, she wouldn't have been able to lie to Bellatrix, wouldn't have been able to survive the pain.

4. Despite her attitude towards him during the last year of his life, and despite what she knows Harry thinks, she liked Sirius very much. Not only because he cared about Harry, and her, and Ron and his family – although she was often amazed that a man who'd been through so much, who'd been cast out by his family and betrayed by a friend could readily love Harry and care for Harry's friends – or because of his loyalty, both to them and Remus Lupin. No, it was primarily because he listened to them, considered their thoughts and feelings, their guesswork and instincts, and took the time to decide his own opinion on the things they said, whereas most adults would simply dismiss the words of teenagers. The fact that Sirius wouldn't ever sneer that they were wrong, or that they should keep out of it, caused her to have great respect for the man.

She was sorry when he died, and she grieved.

5. She and Ron argued a lot during both her pregnancies – due to her hormones and his lack of ability to deal with women and their emotions – but one thing they agreed on was that their children were to have original first names. They would not have the pressure of having to live up to a fallen hero, or be used as some kind of memorial. However, she does understand why Harry and Ginny felt the need to name his children what they did. She and Ron, after all, named their daughter Rose Nymphadora, and their son Hugo Fred.

She realises, several years later, that despite their names, her children still had the pressure of living up to other people. She herself was well-known for both her place in the war, her work in the magical law field and on elf-rights, not to mention the books she had written. Her children had to live up to her own brains, as well as Ron's success with the WWW, and in the war, their Uncle Harry being Harry Potter, and the Weasley name in itself, well-known for their contribution to the war, and the WWW.

6. Because of how much she disliked being an only child, she was determined to have more than one kid of her own. However, after Hugo's birth, when she mentioned the possibility of more kids – a large, loud family to contrast with her own upbringing – Ron shook his head and told her that this was their lot. Not only did he not want his kids to have to compete for attention, or suffer hand-me-downs, she knew – despite him not actually saying it – that he felt that having only two children reduced the possibility of losing them. So they stopped at just Rose and Hugo, and she's never regretted it.

7. She didn't like to lie – she'd been brought up that honestly was the best policy, and that a liar was a Very Bad Thing. Therefore, she had hardly ever lied to her parents, and – because it was important to them that they knew all about her life at Hogwarts, and her world – she kept them updated on Voldemort's return, the war, everything. Right up until she had to change their memories. She explained to them that she was going with Harry and Ron to fight in the war and save her world, and told them that for their safety she had to edit their memories and send them somewhere safe. After an argument, a calmer discussion, and some tears, they agreed. But right before she raised her wand, her mother looked her in the eye and asked if there was any chance she, Hermione, could die in this war.

Hermione shook her head, replied, "Of course not." It was the biggest lie she ever told them, and she hated herself for it.

8. She never admitted it aloud, but during her school days she often felt inferior because she was muggle-born. Despite her grades, despite what her friends said, that sense of not being good enough stayed with her. And yet, in some twisted way, that feeling motivated her into studying harder, making herself better.

Still, it was only when she stood in the great hall, alive when Voldemort was dead, that she truly felt good enough. And it was then that she really accepted, really believed, that her blood was just as pure as Malfoy's, or any of the others.

9. It was her idea to write _Harry Potter: The Truth_, not just to eradicate the rumours still flying around three years after the battle, but so the world would know that it wasn't just Harry, Ron and herself who'd ended the war. It was so Teddy Lupin and the other war-orphaned children would understand why their parents weren't with them, and be proud. It was so, one day, her own children, as well as Harry and Ginny's, would have all the facts there for them. And while the critics said the book was dispassionate, lacked emotion, that was the way she'd intended it, the way Harry wanted it. Because the truth was facts, and the world needed facts, despite their thirst for emotion, for grief and anger and pain to shine through the words.

10. Harry is like her brother; Ron is her husband and the man she loves. Her best friend in the world is Ginny. They are not like sisters – they really are close friends.

Even years after the war, they'll often get together, drink wine, and talk about the battle, the Horcrux hunt, and what Hogwarts was like when Hermione, Ron and Harry weren't there. Where Ron doesn't like to speak about his feelings on the war – talk about emotions? Of course not – and Harry finds it difficult to re-live that time of his life, the two of them share a need to speak of it. So once in awhile they'll leave the kids with their men, get drunk, and talk the night away.

Hermione feels like they're teenagers again, whispering in the dark, talking of the Oder's meetings, of death and destruction, fear and horror. It sort of makes up for having to grow up so fast.


	24. Dominique Weasley

Look, I made the time to update. Don't you lot feel special. Don't get too excited though, 'cause this just isn't a great chapter. But it's readable. I hope. Thanks once again to everyone who's reviewed so far.

Oh, and I've written up to twenty-eight now, so if anyone wants to know, we have Lucy (Percy's daughter) next, then Louis (Bill's son), then Ron and then Harry. I'm just about to start trying Remus, so he'll probably be next. And I think after Louis we'll be done with the Weasley's next generation, unless I've forgotten someone.

24. Dominique

1. She always kinda thought that, since she was half-English, lived in England, and didn't even particularly like France, she ought to have an English name. Something simple, normal. Something that, when people heard it, they wouldn't say, "Oh, so you're French?" with a degree of surprise, which she assumed was because she lacked a French accent.

2. Even though her mother had retained her French accent, and even though Dominique spoke the language flawlessly, she could never incorporate a French accent into her English. Victoire could, whenever she wanted. It was kind of annoying, actually.

3. Maybe it was middle-child thing, but for a long time she was kinda jealous of Victoire. Her big sister looked most like their mother, got more attention at school, and mostly got better grades than Dominique, even if there wasn't a big difference. Then - and she never figured out just how it happened - they had a little heart-to-heart, in which Victoire confessed she was in love with Teddy and didn't think he'd ever see her as anything other than his best friend and almost-cousin.

Consequently, it was Dominique who talked Teddy into making his move with her sister. And, somehow, they ended up a lot closer after that.

4. Her favourite uncle is Ron, because he'll always take the time to talk to her, ask her if everything's OK, ect, no matter where they are or how busy he is. Even when he's been about to head out of the door for work, and she'd show up to look after Hugo, he'd stop and talk. If she went to the WWW, he'd talk no matter how many customers he was trying to see to. At crowded family gatherings, he'd make time for her.

5. Her favourite aunt is Hermione, because she'll actually listen to what you have to say, she'll talk to you like an adult, even if you're really a bratty ten year old who just wants to act like a grown-up, and she's the best person for homework help.

6. When she was seven, she learned, properly, about Veela and the stuff they could do. Her mother explained that Dominique was something like one eighth Veela, and tried to tell her to be responsible with the abilities she'd develop.

Dominique responded by asking if her mum used her Veela powers on her dad, and if that's why they were married. She didn't really believe it, and she felt guilty for the hurt look on her mother's face as she told her "No, of course not." But she had to make sure.

7. Her mother's talk was somewhat wasted, however, as Dominique doesn't even know if she actually has the Veela powers. She's never tried to use them, nor will she. She just doesn't see the point. Why would she want a relationship based one magically induced lust?

8. She knows James doesn't like her mother. It's her fault. When James was really little, she was mad at her mum, and had a little rant, in James' earshot, to Molly. James overheard, and was convinced that Fleur was some horrible person. Despite Dominique's best attempts to change his mind, he's kept that feeling.

Still, at least he doesn't actually remember the stuff she said. That could cause problems.

9. The whole Weasley bunch are a relatively close family, and she knows that. But when she sees the way that James, Al, Lily, Rose and Hugo are so close, best friends, more like brothers and sisters that cousins, and the way their parents are really close too, she thinks that it's like they're a separate family, and she resents that.

10. She got letters from both Hogwarts and her mum's old school, as did Victoire and Louis. All three of them choose to attend Hogwarts, and Dominique knows that their mum was a little disappointed.

But Dominique wanted to go to Hogwarts, and she doesn't think it at all selfish that that's what she chose.


	25. Lucy Weasley

This was one of the hardest ones to write, so I'm not sure I really did Lucy justice. I'm all broke up for Easter now, which I wish I could say means lots of writing, but actually it means lots and lots of Psychology revision (it's an interesting enough subject, but there's a lot of stuff to remember) as well as kinda a lot of homework. Still, I'll find time to update, because I have priority problems and a short attention span. Anyway...

25. Lucy

1. She and Molly are completely different. Molly's more bookish, like their dad, and kinda girly. Lucy, however, is more into Quidditch than school, and not very girly. And when Lucy found out that their dad had walked away from his family at the start of the war, she confronted him, had a small argument, then forgave him, unlike Molly who was slightly quieter for a few days, then returned to normal. Really, Lucy often thought, no one had even noticed Molly was bothered by it.

2. Because Molly was more committed to her grades, when Lucy announced she wanted to be a healer, everyone assumed it was just some little phase that she'd grow out of. She probably would have grown out of it, if it hadn't been for her family's lack of faith in her. Instead, she pushed herself, and walked out with decent grades, straight into Healer training. It was the best decision she ever made.

3. Once, during an argument with her mum, she angrily snapped; "What do you know, you're not even a witch!"

She apologised a million times, but felt guilty for the rest of her life.

4. George is her favourite uncle. Not because he's funny, or owns a joke-shop, or anything like that. It's because he lost a twin, and came through it. And even if he does always look sad and just a little bit broken on his birthday or the anniversary of Fred's death, he survived it. Lucy believes that must have taken amazing strength, and admires him for it.

5. She likes Hagrid. He's an honorary member of the family, and easy to get on with. But it bugs her that he bought only James, Al, Lily, and Hugo owls for their eleventh birthday, and for some reason got Rose a cat, when he didn't get anyone else their pet. It bugs her, too, that those five are clearly his favourites.

6. When Rose told everyone to stop calling her Rosie, Lucy smirked and refused. She lasted almost a week, before Rose looked her in the eyes and said simply "LuLu."

Lucy had to admit, that was well played.

7. She likes hearing the family stories, even if the biggest part of them are centred around Harry - it'd be nice if her own dad had more war stories - but her favourites are the ones about Sirius Black. Because he was reckless and half crazy, but loyal and caring enough to die trying to save the people he cared for.

Plus, her dad doesn't exactly approve.

8. She admires Andromeda Tonks. The women lost so much, including her daughter - because of her own sister - and yet still brought up Teddy and made up with her other sister. If she and Molly had been through everything Andromeda and Narcissa had, Lucy doesn't think she'd have it in her to forgive.

9. The fact that her dad didn't exactly approve is the reason she gets on so well with Luna Lovegood and her sons. But despite the fact that she always winding him up and stuff, she does love her dad. Honest.

10. She and Molly get on well, but they're not close like Rose or Lily are with their brothers - or even with each other. Noticing this at twelve, she resolved to get closer to her big sister. It lasted the better part of three days, before they were both ready to kill each other. 

They're not compatible enough to spend every waking moment together, or even to meet up every day, but they love each other and would die for each other, and it's enough.


	26. Louis Weasley

26. Louis

1. His favourite thing about himself was his classic Weasley looks – the red hair and freckles. Even if his facial features were more like his mothers. It was a little soul destroying to be told you were "beautiful" as a young boy. And to see a decidedly feminine face looking back at you from the mirror.

2. He wasn't all that good at speaking French. Despite the fact that his mother spoke it and had tried to teach him like his sisters, and despite the fact that they spent a few weeks every summer in France, where his maternal grandparents primary spoke to him in that language, he just couldn't keep it all straight in his mind. So while Dominique and Victoire could chatter fluently, he'd have to pause and think before every word.

3. He really seriously considered going to Beauxbatons. Not just because he knew him mum really wanted him to – as the youngest, he was her last hope – or to be different from the rest of the family, but also because there were no houses at Beauxbatons, and whenever he thought of the Hogwarts houses, he didn't really think he wanted to be in any of them.

Then he mentioned it to his sisters, who exchanged looks and told him that he couldn't really go, due to his lack of language skills.

4. Even though most of the Weasleys have a decent amount of Quidditch talent, Louis didn't. He could fly pretty well, but when it came to the game, he couldn't aim, or catch or anything. So he sits in the stands at every match, and thinks that he'd rather watch the game anyway.

5. He has a slight obsession with muggle rock music. It was him who talked Uncle George into creating a magical device that played muggle CDs. Then he collected the disks, with the help of his paternal grandfather, who encouraged Louis endlessly.

6. When he was younger, he wanted scars like his dad. Not just so people would stop calling him beautiful, or that he wouldn't look so feminine, but because he thought they made his dad interesting.

Then he heard the story, the reason his dad had scars, and decided that he'd rather keep his face as it was.

7. Because his was the youngest in his immediate family, and because they were younger than him and without a big brother, he always tried to look out for Molly and Lucy. He knows they know it, and he knows they appreciate it, but still, he'd like to have younger siblings of his own.

8. His patronus is a large, scruffy dog. He thinks it's a mongrel, 'cause it doesn't look like any breed at all. He kinda likes that – the fact that it's completely and totally unique to him.

9. He often wonders why his parents didn't name him after some dead person. Or at least give him a name he could claim to be associated with the war, like Victoire. Fact is, his generation is fascinated by the war, and it'd be nice to tell people he was named after a hero.

10. Still, when he looks at his dad, or uncles, or aunt Ginny, or grandparents, whenever they talk about the war, or whenever it gets to Victoire's birthday, he knows that being there, actually in that war, that battle, wouldn't have been fun, and he's glad he missed it.


	27. Ron Weasley

27. Ron

1. He loves his brothers and his sister, he really does, but much of what he remembers from his childhood in noise and crowds. His memories involve at least one sibling, and although he believes his parents were brilliant, he knows the attention he received was limited. Although he'd never wish any of his siblings away, he sometimes wondered if he'd have been happier in a smaller family.

2. If asked to describe the worst moment of his life, Ron goes silent. He will then say that he has several worst moments, none of which happened prior to Hogwarts. Harry being unconscious in the hospital wing at the end of their first year was pretty bad, but Ginny being the Chamber of Secrets was worse, because he actually believed her dead. And then when Harry went in after her...well, Ron actually cried a little bit as he attempted to move the rubble. His father being attacked by Voldemort's snake was terrifying. But hearing Hermione's screams as Bellatrix Lestrange tortured her was heartbreaking, soul-destroying, and occasionally still haunts his dreams.

The other one, he doesn't like to talk about. Because if he speaks of the immense pain when he saw Fred's dead body, it's like experiencing it all over again. And he doesn't know how he survived the first time, never mind living it again.

3. He is eternally glad that he has one son and one daughter. He choose to stop after two, and Hermione agreed, but it was only when they were older that Ron realised what a good idea it was. Because he doesn't have a favourite, and never intended to. But he's convinced that if he had another daughter, she wouldn't be nearly as pretty or smart or talented as his Rosie. She wouldn't patiently explain to him just what he'd done to make her mother mad, or give him advice on how to fix it. So if he had two daughters, Rose would be his favourite, and he wouldn't be able to live with himself.

And if he had another son, he wouldn't compare to Hugo at all. Hugo, with his brains and humour and Quidditch talent, his determination and the way he often takes Ron's side when Ron and Hermione are bickering, just because he feels like someone ought to. No, Hugo would be his favourite son.

So just having one son and one daughter works perfectly for Ron.

4. From his birth, Hugo has had limited contact with emotional women, due to Ron's avoidance of them. His inability to deal with a sobbing and/or extremely mad women means that he'll often flee the room - yes, Ron Weasley who fought in the war and survived numerous Death Eaters attacks flees like a coward from an emotional female - and if Hugo was there, he'd pick up the boy, or, later, grab his hand or arm, and take him out of the room too. Consequently, Hugo is rather uncomfortable around females experiencing extreme emotion, too.

5. He loves working at the WWW, he really does, and he knows that he's made a success of his life, made plenty of money. But he also knows that he wanted to be an auror, that he could have been one, and he only started working at the WWW because George couldn't cope on his own. So as content as he is, he often fleetingly thinks that if he'd let one of his other siblings step in, or even let George struggle, he could have had his dream job. And although he finds it hard to believe he'd lovethat job more than this one, he sometimes wishes he'd had to chance to find out.

He also knows, whenever he sees his name on a WWW product, or fixes his name-tag onto the WWW staff uniform, that it should be Fred's name on those boxes, Fred who was clipping on a name-tag and opening the store with a grin for the waiting customers. Not him.

6. Right up until Lily and Scorpius got together, he was terrified that his own daughter would end up with the kid, and convinced it was going to happen. Because wouldn't that be so typically perfect, having a Malfoy as a son-in-law?

But that...honour...went to Harry, allowing Ron to smirk at his best friend and breathe easy again. And Lorcan Scamander, after all, is a much better choice.

7. To this day, he doesn't know when exactly he started liking Hermione. As more than a friend. It wasn't in his second year, when he saw her petrified. He knows that much. But it could have been during his third, when he'd pushed her from their trio in his anger, and missed her way more than he should. It may have been later, during his fourth year, when he saw her with her arm linked through Viktor Krum's, and felt a deep stab of jealousy. It could have been even later, when they were together a Grimmauld place, or even later, when he woke in the hospital wing to see her in the bed next to his, her face contorted in pain.

All he knows is, by the time he reached his sixth year, he liked her a lot. By the time he reached what should have been his seventh, he loved her.

8. As much as he hates to play favourites, he knows that Ginny and Harry's kids are his favourite nephews and niece. He tells himself that he loves all his nieces and nephews equally - and he does - but he knows that, while he caught a spider for little Lily, he wouldn't have done it for any of his other nieces.

9. Hugo told him - and only him - about the sorting hat's determination to place him in Hufflepuff. He reassured him, of course, but he knew he hadn't done a good job of it. And when he asked why it was so important that he go to Gryffindor, and Hugo explain his pact with Lily, Ron found himself impressed and immensely proud of his son's loyalty.

He overheard Hugo's conversation with Hermione, about not calling him "Hughie" anymore. When Hugo finally exited the room, blowing his fringe from his eyes in obvious relief, Ron put his arm round his shoulders, and told him half jokingly that Hugo was a braver man than he.

10. On the times when Hermione and Ginny have their girls-night-out/in, he and Harry get to have their own time together. He knows that Hermione values her nights with Ginny, but he never mentions how much _he _values the time with Harry. They are, after all, best friends, and seldom get an opportunity to just be together, like they did before their respective marriages and kids. It reminds them both that their younger years weren't just war and fights and death, but also had friendship, fun, and laughter. And that is something Ron thinks is important for them both to hold onto.


	28. Harry Potter

Well I kinda put off writing Harry, because I worried about not doing it good enough. Still actually don't think it is. But I might as well give it a shot, right?

28. Harry

1. Even though, whenever anyone hears about him sleeping in a cupboard for years they look horrified, it doesn't bother him all that much. For years that place was his, his personal space, his private refuge, somewhere he could cry, or think, or be alone.

And as strange as it seems, there's a kind of nostalgia about it – whenever he thinks of it, it's almost fondly. Because without his cupboard to go hide in, what would he have done?

(Of course, a bedroom may have worked just as well.)

2. Sometimes, when someone says something about his role in the war, about him being the wizarding world's saviour, he goes blank. Because, except for when one of his kids, or his nephews or nieces asks about it, he rarely allows himself to think about that time in his life. So it takes him a minute to realise the stranger in the street is talking about him.

And then, of course, he has to deal with the flood of memories. Sometimes, he really hates people.

3. He knows that people assume he named his children, and that Ginny had nothing to do with it. Even his own kids believe it. But, while he suggested the name James, Ginny chose Sirius, and suggested Albus, as well as Luna.So, when you think about it, it's pretty much even.

4. Once, Albus found an old article, written by Rita Skeeter in Harry's fourth year, describing Harry's "relationship" with Hermione. Al was about nine at the time, and got extremely upset, apparently convinced that his parents were going to split up and that Harry would marry Hermione.

To everyone's surprise, it was Ron who sat Al down and explained that there was never anything like that between them, that the woman was just lying. Harry still remembers the way Hermione beamed as Ron explained that she and Harry were like brother and sister.

5. Sometimes, James' reminds him so much of Sirius that it hurts. And while Harry knows there's no real way James could take after Harry's long-dead godfather, there's something of Sirius in him. Something, Harry supposes, of his own father in him. The familiarity of it causes stabs of pain, even as it causes stabs of pride.

Because there's far worse things James could do than act like Padfoot and Prongs.

6. He knows that Teddy is an important part of his family, and he loves the boy like a son. But often while Teddy was growing up, he had to force himself into creating some distance between them.

Because he was terrified that if he got too close to the boy, if Teddy regarded him as too much of a father figure, it would erase Remus from his heart. And he would never forgive himself for that.

7. One of the biggest arguments he and Ginny ever had was over Teddy. He accused her of being too close to Ted; she accused him of pushing Ted away. When he angrily yelled that she couldn't replace Tonks, she looked rather like she wanted to slap him.

"Tonks was my friend." She'd hissed, in a low, deadly voice. "And loving her son is the least I can do for her. Don't ever say I'm trying to replace her. Ever."

And he knew, really, that she wasn't trying to replace Tonks, that she couldn't anyway. And he knew, really, the he harboured some amount of jealousy over Teddy. Because they'd both lost their parents at a young age, but Harry gone to people who disliked him, Harry had faced neglect and hardship. Teddy lived with a grandmother who loved him, had a large system of people who loved and cared for him, and would face none of the horrors Harry had. And the fact that he was jealous of a young, orphaned boy who didn't truly understand why his parents weren't around, disgusted him.

8. He's consented to a small amount of interviews over the years. One of the most common questions he's faced is, "What is your proudest achievement?"

He knows they expect him to say his defeat of Voldemort, or his work as an Auror, or the wizarding orphanage he set up. But his answer is always the same two words. "My children."

9. When Lily told him she was seeing Scorpius Malfoy, the shock rendered him breathless. But then he noticed the way that her brothers were stood protectively on either side of her, and wondered if they suspected he'd lose his temper and hurt her. This shocked him more than her relationship, and enabled him to calmly discuss it with her.

It was only later that he wondered if the way James and Al had stood had been designed to manipulate him that way. Smart boys, his.

10. He has many sources of guilt, and the emotion seems to reside in him often. He still feels guilty over Sirius' death, and the deaths in the battle. He still feels guilty over his parents' deaths, because if not for his birth they would have lived. He especially feels that he ought to have protected his mother, because surely that what sons are supposed to do? Even if he was just a babe in arms, shouldn't he have done something? He feels guilt over the things he put Ron and Hermione through in their childhoods, and the way his children struggle to live up to his past, his name. He feels guilt over a million other things.

And he feels guilty that he considers Ron and Ginny's family his, that Molly and Arthur Weasley are like parents to him. Because he has parents, and he hates that he's tried to replace them.


	29. Remus Lupin

Happy Easter! Big thanks for all my reviews, with the exception of one Harry fan-girl who bitched about my Neville chapter (Go read it if you want, it's actually quite funny). So, here's Remus.

29. Remus

1. He was a small boy when he was bitten. It means that his childhood memories, as far as he can tell, are all after he was bitten. That's one of the hardest things to deal with - that he doesn't remember a time when he wasn't like this, a time when his mother could look at him without a shadow of sorrow and fear on her face, a time when his father could look him in the eye without guilt. He doesn't remember a time when his life was mostly pain-free, terror-free.

He doesn't remember ever being innocent, and he feels cheated.

2. He was fourteen when he found out who bit him, and why. His father told him, which, Remus supposed, showed some courage. It can't be easy to tell your only son that it's your fault he's a werewolf. But Remus' father told him, and asked for forgiveness. Because his father was ill, Remus muttered through the shock that he forgave him, that it was alright.

A week later, his father was dead, and Remus wondered if, had his father had known Remus' forgiveness was false, he'd have held onto life a little longer. As it is, Remus has never forgiven the man, and never forgiven himself for the death-bed lie.

3. Easily the worst day of his life is when Lily and James died. Because he went from being a man with five great friends and a bright, happy child in his life, to a man with two dead friends, one Death Eater friend, and that child removed from his life. Even though it was a little while later that Remus was told Peter was killed, too, it was the second worse day before he knew the truth.

Because when Lily and James were killed, and Harry taken, Remus believed Sirius to be the cause, and everything he knew came crashing around him. Peter's "death" wasn't even a shock. Everything else had been taken from him, after all.

4. He will always feel guilty that he didn't visit Harry at all during his childhood. If asked about it - and only Sirius and Tonks have ever asked him - he'll say that Dumbledore told him not to, because Harry's aunt and uncle wouldn't let him near the boy. Sirius and Tonks accepted this, with a commiserating comment, telling him it must have been hard to stay away, or that it was unfair of Dumbledore to do that.

In truth, Dumbledore simply warned him that it might be difficult to gain access to Harry. Remus used it as an excuse to stay away, because for the longest time he didn't feel worthy enough to see Harry. Survivor's guilt, he supposed they'd call it, but he despised himself for living when Harry's parents were not.

(Plus, it was hard enough looking into Lily's eyes, on James' face, when the boy was thirteen. How could he ever have watched him grow up, knowing that two of his best friends should have been there?)

5. The first time he saw Sirius again, knowing that he was innocent, he felt normal for the first time in years. He felt whole again. He remembered thinking that if Lily and James were to jump from the shadows telling him that they were alive, really, and it was all a mistake, his life would be right again.

They didn't, of course, but Sirius was enough.

6. The days after Sirius' death are mostly a blur. He remembered, when the fight was over and the injured were being carted away, seeing Tonks, moaning in pain, half-unconscious, and he stayed with her, all the way to St. Mungo's, and waited outside her room while the doctor's dealt with her, sitting with her parents. Busying himself with Tonks allowed him to block the thoughts that tried to overtake him - that Sirius was dead, gone, for good this time.

It was only when he stood beside her bed, when she looked up at him, her eyes somewhat glazed over and her mind still only half-alert, when she said softly, "I'm so sorry about Sirius, Remus..." when Andromeda looked up in shock, demanding to know what she meant, when Tonks muttered, slipping into sleep, that Sirius was dead, and when Andromeda gasped and her eyes swam with tears, it was only then that he had to accept it. When he almost choked on the pain, when he fled from the room, when he went back to Grimmauld Place and sat, crying, in Sirius' room.

7. She found him, sat with him. She seemed to know, instinctivly, when he needed to sit in silence, or when he needed comforting words, or when he needed to talk about Sirius, to hear about Sirius. She got him through it, and somewhere along the way he fell for her.

And as much as he tried, she never let him go after that.

8. The wedding was his idea. He knows most people assume she talked him into it, pushed, but it was his idea. Put it down to too much drink, but it wasn't. Put it down to grief over Dumbledore's death, but it wasn't. Put it down to fear for the future, but it wasn't.

It was simply because he loved her.

And even though, afterwards, he regretted what he'd done to her, he could never completly regret marrying her.

9. The worst thing he ever did was leave her. He had the right reasons, but it was the worst decision he ever made. He didn't expect her to forgive him, but if she hadn't, he didn't know what he'd have done. How he'd have lived without her, how he'd have managed without ever holding his son.

10. When the news about Hogwarts arrived, about the battle, he hesitated. He looked at his son and hesitated.

And then he stood anyway, and told Dora that he had to go. He told her she had to stay. And while he pretended to believe her when she said she would, he knew, really, that it was a matter of minutes before she followed him.

And he knew that if he'd stayed, stayed with his son like his instincts told him to, he wouldn't have been able to forgive himself. But she'd have been alive, and that would have been enough.

So his last thoughts were regret. Regret that he'd left his son. Regret that he'd led his wife into this. Regret that he'd never return home, the he hadn't said all the things to little Teddy that he wanted to.


	30. Andromeda Tonks

Thanks again for my reviews, love you all. Andromeda now, which wasn't all that easy for me, then we'll have George, then Percy, then Fred the first, then Bill. I'm about to go try Charlie, so he'll probably be after that.

30. Andromeda

1. Growing up, she was always closer to Narcissa than to Bella. At the time, she regretted that, believing that she should behave the same to the both of them.

Years later, as she cried uncontrollably, she was eternally thankful that she and Bella were never close. Somehow it made it easier to pretend it wasn't her own sister who'd killed her daughter.

2. She loved Ted, hated her parents, and knew her sisters wouldn't choose her side. Still, walking away from her family was the hardest thing she's ever had to do.

She still doesn't know if she should be sad that they just let her walk away, were willing to give her up so easily, or she should be relieved that they let her walk away alive.

3. The loss of her family had been hard to deal with, but Ted had gotten her through it, and Nymphadora showed her every day that it was worth it.

Ted's death was harder to deal with. Dora's was harder still.

4. Teddy, little Teddy, was the only thing that kept her sane, kept her from sinking into depression. He was her daughter's last gift, and Andromeda's favourite ever present.

5. She met Lily and James Potter several times, through Sirius, and was upset by their deaths. But the fact that Sirius was accused of being a Death Eater overshadowed it. He was the only member of her blood family to still be in her life, and his loss was a heavy blow.

She never believed him guilty, though she refused to speak of him.

6. Then Dora took her to the Order's headquarters, and he was there, older, slightly different looking, but Sirius. Her Sirius, her favourite cousin.

When he died, she bitterly regretted not having more contact with him. She still does.

7. Remus Lupin was a nice man, a smart, polite man, who loved her daughter. It still took her several weeks to get used to the idea of her daughter being married to a werewolf.

Still, she had accepted him by his death, and he knew it. For that, she is thankful.

8. She had fantasised, for years, of her family coming to her, begging for forgiveness. She had hoped, without believing. She had expected it to take a lot for her to forgive any of them.

But when Narcissa turned up on the doorstep, looking drawn, pale, ill even, it was surprising easy to accept her apology.

9. Still, they aren't close, not even as close as they were as children. Their relationship is fragile, cracked, and Andromeda often wishes they could go back to how it was. But at the same time, she knows this is the only way it can be, the way it will always be. It's enough.

10. Holding her great-granddaughter for the first time was both the best moment of her life, and the saddest. The baby had bright eyes, a heart-shaped face, and pink hair. It was like going back in time, and overwhelmed her with emotion.

When Victoire and Teddy delicately told her the baby's name, she didn't know whether to smile or cry. So she did both.


	31. George Weasley

31. George

1. Fred was born first, but George learned to crawl first. Fred managed his first word two days before George, but George took his first stumbling steps four days before his twin.

This was how it had always been – following each other, their lives intertwined, their minds intertwined. They were a part of each other, just as much as they were their own person. Life would never have separated them.

Only death could possibly do that.

(If they were born together, shouldn't they have died together?)

2. Losing his ear was painful, terrifying, and, in the purest sense of vanity, humiliating. For weeks afterwards, looking in the mirror made him wince, because there was an empty space where there shouldn't be, there was a gaping hole in the side of his head, where flesh should reside. For months, even after he was used to seeing the emptiness there, he couldn't bring himself to touch the healing wound, because it would always bring a wave of nausea.

3. One of the things that shames him most, both then and now, is the jealousy that losing his ear brought. It's the only thing he'd never admit aloud, not to anyone, even Fred.

Because when he'd look in the mirror and see that gaping, disgusting, hole, then look at Fred, with every part of him present and attached, he'd fill with envy. Because they were supposed to do everything together, they were supposed to be identical, and they _weren't._ They didn't look the same, and George had done something Fred hadn't. And he couldn't help thinking bitterly that Fred should be one-eared too, or wondering why it was he who had lost the ear, and not Fred.

4. He's been scared many times. There were the small scares, like seeing the ghosts for the first time. And then there were the big scares, like when Ginny was taken into the Chamber of Secrets, or when Dad was attacked by the snake, or when Ron was poisoned, or Bill was attacked by Greyback, or when Ron was away with Harry and Hermione, or when Bill, obviously not thinking, turned up at their place and said – and this is verbatim – "Come with me – you have to go into hiding – they've been caught, Ron's been caught -" and he and Fred thought, in that moment, that Ron was dead.

5. But the worst fear, ever, was standing in the Great Hall, knowing that Ginny was upstairs, in a sanctuary he knew she wouldn't remain in, knowing that his whole family was gathered here, and that there was no possible way they could all survive. Looking around them, wondering which one of them would be dead.

Still, he'd never believe it would be Fred – because Fred dying would be like him dying, and he wouldn't die.

6. When he looked down at Fred's lifeless body, the mercifully closed eyes, the unnaturally pale skin and the far too still body, he didn't believe he was actually dead. Because surely he'd have felt it, if Fred had died, if Fred's soul had been ripped from the world?

And then Ginny gripped his arm, a look of dull shock on her face, her eyes strangely empty, and she whispered two words, just two words, with the power to destroy his life.

"He's dead."

To this day, he can't remember what happened after that. She spoke the words, and then the next thing he knew, Voldemort's voice was echoing around the hall. He knows that nearly an hour passed, but he doesn't know what happened during it.

7. He and Angelina had been friends for a long time. He'd liked her a little bit before Fred had asked her to the Yule Ball, and then he'd got over it, because that's what you do. It wasn't until long after Fred's death that he realised he liked her again. She had been his rock, his strength, and he'd come to depend on her. It scared him, that he knew he could fall in love with her. Because he'd loved Fred – not, obviously, in the same way – and Fred had died and it had nearly destroyed him. Loving someone was asking for pain.

But he couldn't help himself.

8. He and Angelina never actually decided to name their son Fred. They didn't discuss it at all, didn't discuss names at all. There was no, "Shall we call him Fred?" or even, "His name is Fred." They simply began referring to him as Fred, as though the decision had been made long ago, as though it was only natural that it should be his name.

9. For several years, he'd sometimes be at home or at one of the WWW stores, and he'll look around himself, thinking that he has an amazing family, a successful business, and that it's just not fair that he has them when Fred doesn't. It's not fair that Fred's life and future were taken away so easily, suddenly, pointlessly.

And he'd spend time allowing the guilt to wash over him. Because surely he shouldn't have allowed himself all of this, not when his twin is gone?

10. On the anniversary of the last battle, right before his daughter's birth, he went to Fred's grave. He didn't visit it often, didn't need to sit beside a headstone to think of Fred. But he went to it, looked at the all too familiar name etched upon it, and spoke.

"I'm happy. I have everything I wanted, and I've finally realised that I'm allowed. So don't think that I've forgotten you, or anything, but my son, and the new baby I'm going to have soon, they deserve to have me, whole and – and normal, like I'm supposed to be. They deserve to see me as I was – before – and that's who I'll be. So, erm, that's all."

He never told anyone, but he swears that he felt Fred around him, beside him, and he swears that, inside his own mind, a quiet voice muttered, "It's about time..."


	32. Percy Weasley

Wow. Just give me a minute to get over the shock of my reviews...over seven hundred? Really? Wow. I'm just going to sit here with my eyes wide in shock for a few minutes. You lot enjoy Percy.

32. Percy

1. As a child, and a teenager, he'd often wish his parents had one more child. Just one, just to make it an even number. Because everyone had paired off, and pairs can't be made from odd numbers. He was the odd one out, the remainder, the one that didn't quite fit. Bill and Charlie, as the oldest and, Percy would think, the coolest, paired off, too grown up and alike for the "babies". Fred and George were, of course, Fred and George, and Ron and Ginny, as the youngest, were thrown together. Plus, with only a year's difference between them, they were bound to pair of.

And that left him. Just him.

2. He was always very protective over Ron and Ginny. Because they were younger than him, but while Fred and George had each other, and seemed so indestructible, Ron was sometimes rather naive, and, of course, ran around with Harry, often in danger. Ginny was the youngest, was a girl, and it was his job as her brother to be protective. One of the reasons he was so mad at his parents was because they were taking Ron and Ginny into a war he didn't think was real.

(Wasn't it ironic - painfully, tormentingly ironic - that he'd never expected the twins to be killed, yet Fred was the one who died?)

3. He meant everything he said to his father, at the time, and it was anger and humiliation - he'd really thought they'd listen to him, choose him over Harry and Dumbledore - that carried him from the house. But an hour after he walked from the Burrow, he regretted it. For those first few weeks, all he wanted was to go home and hug his mother, but he knew that they wouldn't take him back, knew that he couldn't truly believe in the things they did, knew that he didn't truly belong with them.

And if he wanted to keep the jumpers at Christmas, or visit his father in the hospital, or go to Fred and George's store, it didn't matter, because dignity was all he needed.

4. He knew, during that last year of the war, that Ron was with Harry. Despite the ministry being satisfied that Ron had spattergroit, he knew. And he spent every single night wide awake, worrying about his little brother. He subscribed to both the morning and evening editions of the _Prophet,_ and to _The Quibbler_, his hands shaking ever time he picked up each copy for the first time, terrified of what the front page would bring.

But the news of Ron's death never came.

5. He never expected his family to forgive him. Even as he hurried to Hogwarts, even as he tried to plan what he would say if he did see any of them, he figured he'd be lucky to get away without being jinxed. So when he saw them, all gathered like that, and all the words he'd planned left his head instantly, he just said everything that came to him, and awaited a curse.

Forgiveness wasn't something he'd expected, but it's something he's remained thankful for, for the rest of his life.

6. He loved fighting. He never admitted it - the war, after all, had terrible consequences - but there was something so exhilarating about fighting. It was something he'd never done before, and, up until Fred's death, his thoughts were along the lines of; "I should have been doing this for years."

7. The worst moment of his life, even worse that walking out on his family, of hearing about his father being attacked yet not daring to visit him, of knowing his brother was somewhere out there in mortal danger, was seeing Fred's lifeless body. It's a image that will be burned onto his mind and heart forever, on that will haunt his nightmares until he dies.

The only thing that gives him any comfort at all, is the fact that he did, at least, gain Fred's forgiveness before his end.

8. He'd rather hoped - although he knew it unlikely - that his daughters would never find out about his desertion of his family. But, of course, they did. And while most people were unaware that Molly was even bothered by it, he knew, he felt her coldness towards him. But he knew that she didn't need his apologies, his explanations, his excuses. She needed to think it over, to form her own opinions, and decide herself if she forgave him.

Lucy, on the other hand, needed to argue, to shout and be shouted at, to hear his explanations and regrets, to voice her thoughts, and then to forgive him, hug him, and go on like nothing had happened.

He knew what they needed, and gave them it.

9. Everyone except Ginny forgave him instantly. He knew he'd hurt her the deepest, for she depended on her brothers more than she would ever admit, and his abandonment had scarred her. It took several weeks before she finally looked him in the eye and told him that she forgave him. She'd never, she told him, understand why he walked away, but she forgave him. He was, from that moment, closer to her than he'd ever been. Closer, in fact, to his whole family that he'd ever been, and wasn't that just ironic? (Sometimes, he thinks irony is the theme of his life.)

10. He visits Fred's grave once a week. He goes when he knows no one else will be there, and he just sits beside the grave, in silence. He doesn't speak, doesn't take flowers or anything, but just spends an hour or so sittting there in silence.

Audrey knows where he goes, and he knows she understands. Fred would have liked her.


	33. Fred Weasley I

Not my best, I'm aware, but I don't think I'd ever had done him justice. Not just because he's Fred, because he's a main character, but because he's dead, and that sort of makes you want to give him the best.

33. Fred Weasley I

1. Every memory he has includes George. He knows that it's impossible they were always together, but he doesn't remember them ever being apart. He'd often wryly think that any memory without George was one not worth remembering.

2. When he first went to Hogwarts, while awaiting his sorting, he was slightly paler, slightly shaking, and very terrified. George, on the other hand, was calm and relaxed. He'd be amused by it later, but his nerves were made so much worse by his twin being so unperturbed.

3. He'd kind of admired Percy, for his determination. Percy was one of those people who was determined to get what he wanted, and would let nothing get in his way.

Of course, when it ended up being his family in his way, Fred kinda wished his brother didn't have that quality.

4. He'd liked Angelina. A lot. But it wasn't until after the Yule Ball, when they awkwardly attempted a goodnight kiss, that he realised his feelings for her were more sisterly than romantic. When his mouth met hers, and the she's-like-my-sister thought hit him, he jerked away so quickly he very nearly fell over. And rather than being angry or upset, Angelina said, with feeling, "Oh-thank-God-it's-over-that-was-too-weird."

"Never again." He nodded quickly, then smirked. He walked her to the girls' staircase, gave her a brotherly hug, and that was it.

5. He always remembered the moment he and George decided to open a joke shop. It was towards the end of their second year, just after the Easter holidays. They'd been discussing the future in the it'll-never-really-get-here way that their age group often does, when the thought his them simultaneously. They looked up at the exact same time, and said the exact same words with every syllable perfectly in time: "Joke shop!"

And so it was decided.

6. He's had many scary moments. Ginny being in the Chamber. Ron getting attacked by Sirius Black. His father being attacked by the snake. Ron being poisoned.

But seeing George, too pale and covered in blood, unmoving and with a gaping hole where his ear ought to be, that was the worst. Because he truly believed his twin was dead, and in that moment he had no idea what he was supposed to do, what he could do, without him.

7. He helped set it up, he acted like it wasn't a big deal, but Ron going off with Harry was terrifying. And had he thought he could stop him, he would have done.

(Ron may have thought going home for Christmas would have brought anger, disappointment, and all the rest, but in truth he'd have been welcomed back with open arms.)

8. It took about two years for him and George to regard Harry as another little brother. During Harry's first year, when he was knocked out in the hospital wing, they were worried, but he was still just Ron's mate, little Harry, the famous kid they got on well with. Then he stayed with them, then he saved Ginny, and suddenly he was one of the family.

9. He never really thought he'd die in the war. Sure, he and George had said they were willing to die for the cause, as long as they died fighting, but they'd never truly believed it. He was too young to die, after all. He'd always taken his future for granted, and yet suddenly it was gone. He was gone.

10. He'd have been glad it was him who died, and not George, although his reasons are selfish. Of course he'd be glad George survived, of course he'd be glad his twin had a life and a future, but his main reason would be purely selfish - He didn't consider himself strong enough to survive without George. Losing his twin would have broken him, irreparably, he was always certain. So if it came down to him losing George, or George losing him, this would be the only way Fred would have it.


	34. Bill Weasley

This was surprising hard to write. Maybe I don't know Bill all that well, but it just wasn't easy, and there's parts of it I don't like. Parts I do, though, so hopefully it balances out.

34. Bill

1. He didn't really like being the oldest. Sometimes it was cool, because he got to boss the others around, and they always looked up to him, but he also had to do everything first, which made it even more new and scary, and he always felt like his siblings expected him to be their great protector.

What if he couldn't? What if he couldn't live up to everything they thought he was?

2. He was determined to be the best. Maybe because he was the oldest, and wanted to be someone his siblings could look up to. Maybe to make his parents proud. Maybe for himself. All he knows is, he spent his years at Hogwarts studying, trying to be cool and popular, and yet being the model student. He found the balance, but nowadays he sometimes wishes he hadn't tried so hard, that he'd spent more time trying to figure out who he was, so that he wouldn't have had to run off to Egypt on a little self-discovery mission.

3. For that's what his time in Egypt was - a chance to find out who he was, to figure out what he wanted in life. It was ironic that, while he figured himself out, he never found out what he wanted until he returned to England - and met Fleur.

4. He remembers the first war. He remembers not really understanding, remembers being scared, because his parents were scared. He remembers, several times, his parents telling him carefully that someone he knew was dead.

That was why, when Dumbledore told them of Voldemort's return, when he knew it was all going to happen again, he was the one who left to contact his father - because he needed a minute alone, a minute to break a little bit.

5. Getting attacked by Greyback is something he doesn't clearly remember. He was fighting, then there was a blur of pain, and then he was in the hospital wing, his face scarred and his soul different.

But he's never regretted it, or wished it away. It shaped him, became a part of his life.

6. He didn't want Fleur to go to Hogwarts with him, that night. He was terrified of losing her, and tried to make her stay at home. She didn't, of course. Maybe he'd have forced her to stay, had she not looked in him the eye and told him she couldn't sit around wondering what was happening, wondering if he was OK.

That was why he was unsurprised that Tonks didn't stay home, either.

7. He'd thought there was a chance he'd die, thought there was a chance Fleur would die, but he'd never considered one of his siblings would. They'd just been around for so long, been a part of his life for so long, that he sort of took it for granted.

So seeing Fred's body on the floor was just...

8. Harry and Ginny was...weird for him, that first time they got together. Because he never saw it coming. He believed her to be over it, believe Harry to see her as no more than a little sister. But he knew, when he was told they were together, that they'd stay that way, that they'd marry and have kids and everything. It was hard to accept that Harry and his little sister would be serious.

9. He liked Remus and Tonks, a lot, and became close friends with them. When they died he swore to look after their son. He wasn't the only one, of course, but he swore it all the same and followed through. And, really, Teddy was the only boy he'd have allowed near his daughter; Teddy was the only boy he considered good enough for his daughter.

That's why Dominique doesn't like bringing boyfriends home. Victoire has the only un-related boy he doesn't consider a threat to his daughter.

10. He sometimes thinks that if he'd never returned to England, if he he'd never met Fleur, never had his children, he'd have just burnt out, faded from existence, because his universe revolves around them, and what would he have done without them?


	35. Charlie Weasley

Chapter thirty-five, now, and the last Weasley. Blood Weasley, that is. I'll get round to doing the wives later. This isn't all that great, I know, but it was hard to write. Damn those oldest Weasley brothers.

My Jigsaw Pieces readers will recognise number seven. Anyone who wants to read the little one-shot I based that fact on, it's chapter 42, called Lost and Broken. Had to use it, it just makes more sense for me this way.

35. Charlie

1. He liked being the second oldest. It meant that he could do all the same things as Bill, but without the pressure of being the oldest.

Still, he sort of wished his siblings would go to him for advice, like they often did for Bill.

2. He'd loved Hogwarts, but being inside the castle, being in lessons, was so boring. He was an out-doors kind of guy, so it was natural that he excelled in Care of Magical Creatures. Between that class, Quidditch, and helping Hagrid out as often as possible, the rest of his grades weren't exactly brilliant. Never mind. Bill and Percy were there to bring academic honour to the family.

3. He loves his job, and it's the only thing he could have done with his life. Even if it took him away from his family, even if it prevented him for visiting his father when he was attacked, or Bill, when he was attacked, or from arriving at the last battle before he did. And, yes, he sometimes wishes he'd returned home for, at least, that last year, so he could have fought, helped, he knows that dragons are the only career he could have chosen.

4. Fred was his little brother. Fred was the one who told him it was "awesome" that he was running off to work with dragons; Fred was the one who would write every week during the war, to tell him all the little events that his parents didn't want to worry him with. Fred was the one who asked him, time and time again, to come home, because mum was going crazy wondering if he was OK.

But he was the last one to find out about Fred's death, the last one to say goodbye, and he's the one who has to wonder if, somehow, he could have prevented Fred's death if he'd gotten there in time.

5. He never thought Ginny and Harry were going to get together. Or Ron and Hermione. He figured they'd all marry different people he'd never met, and maybe drift apart, like he'd drifted apart from his old school-friends.

So when he stood at their respective weddings, he smiled wryly and told himself he really should have visited more.

6. He has secrets. One is that, when he first started his job, he was almost killed. A dragon caught him with its tail; a spike drove into his stomach, and sent him flying through the air. By the time he landed, breaking his arm as he came into contact with the ground, he had lost a dangerous amount of blood, as well as consciousness.

If not for his colleagues, he would have been returned home in a body-bag. But he never told his family, knowing it would worry his parents too much.

7. Another secret, would hurt too much to speak of. Because Charlie met the woman he should have married, met the women who understood him, who loved dragons as much as he.

She died while pregnant with his baby; just weeks before he was going to take her home, surprise the family, marry her.

He doesn't have it in him to love anyone else, and so has accepted that he'll be alone until he dies.

8. It was a dragon that healed him, somewhat, after her death. He wasn't sure if he could continue working with the creatures she'd loved, and was trying to decide whether to return home or not. He was stood, watching a bunch of them, when one, the moodiest, most dangerous, looked at him. It just met his gaze, and for a moment Charlie swears it was giving him a "Who-are-you-kidding" look.

It was right. Charlie Weasley belonged here, and even the dragons knew it.

9. He'd have liked kids – of course, he was clearly destined not to have them – and so he loves spending time with his nieces and nephews. He loves it when they visit him, and he can show them the dragons. He loves driving their parents crazy by taking them closer to the dragons than the parents like.

10. He may have lost his chance at love, he may have expected that by the time he reached his fifties his life would be empty and meaningless, but Charlie was, by that time, comfortable and happy with the life he had. Sure, he had his share of regrets, or memories he'd rather not have, but he also had a ton of happy memories, and what more could he ask for?


	36. James Potter I

Not as good as I wanted it to be - seems to be the running theme lately - but Lily I will be next and I like hers better. Then we'll have Luna, then Fleur, if anyone's interested.

Oh, and about Andromeda's chapter. A few people asked what Teddy's kid's name was. It's Nymphadora, as mentioned in Victoire's chapter.

36. James Potter I

1. He had a great upbringing. He was loved, cared for, and given everything he wanted, while at the same time taught his manners.

But it wasn't until he got to Hogwarts that he realised how lucky he was. He was loved, while people like Sirius weren't. He had plenty of money, while people like Peter didn't. He had an easy confidence borne of his upbringing that Remus, among others, lacked.

2. The first time he saw Lily he barely noticed her. She was just in the corner of the compartment, and then he was distracted by that other kid. Later, he regretted that – she already disliked him, and that made everything so much harder.

3. The moment he met Sirius, he knew that the boy was going to be both trouble and the best friend he'd ever had. He was right.

4. That time when Sirius nearly got Snape killed, using Moony, he was so angry with him. Sirius wasn't bothered – until James pointed out that he'd risked Moony for his little joke. That's when Sirius when paler, when guilt finally came into his eyes.

Then, even though he half wanted to storm off and not talk to him for a few days, James went with Sirius to Dumbledore's office, trying to talk the headmaster into letting him sit in their meeting together. When he wouldn't permit it, James waited outside for a full hour, just to make sure Sirius was OK. Because that's just the kind of friend he was.

5. It was Sirius' idea for them to become animagus for Remus. James was, at first, hesitant. Not because of the rules, but because it meant messing around with his own body. What if they accidently killed themselves, or disfigured themselves? So many things could go wrong…

But Remus needed it, needed them, and so James silenced his doubts and hit the books.

6. He knew that when Snape called Lily a mudblood, it hurt her deeply, but he was kinda glad of it. If there was one thing that assured they'd never be friends again, it was that, and their friendship had been a large irritation to James for a long time.

Still, he saw the hurt in her eyes every time she saw Snape, everytime someone mentioned his name, and he felt both anger on her behalf, and guilt because of his own feelings towards the event.

7. When Lily finally agreed to a date with him, he couldn't believe what he'd heard. After asking her to repeat herself, he stood there, blinking and opening and closing his mouth like a fish for almost fifteen minutes.

She never did let him forget it.

8. When Lily told him she was pregnant, he filled with fear and worries that lasted the whole pregnancy. While they decorated the nursery, discussed baby names, while he'd help fufill all her cravings and try to minimise her discomfort, he was terrified that he wouldn't live till the birth, or that he'd lose them both, or that, once their child would be killed once it was born.

But holding him for the first time, that tiny creature who was a part of himself and a part of Lily, the little boy who looked like him but had her eyes, his worries vanished. Because he knew that the only way he'd let himself die was to protect this child. He knew that he'd do anything, anything to make sure Harry stayed safe. He knew that this was the most important thing that would ever grace his life.

So hearing that Voldemort was after his son...They were the worst words ever spoken to him. His child, his innocent little boy, destined for death? He didn't even truly understand why, and it was so hard to comprehend. If Lily hadn't been beside him, gripping his arm tightly and telling him they'd get through it, somehow, he'd have broken down, right then and there.

9. He refused to believe any of his friends were spies, but when Sirius asked him to switch to Peter, he felt a faint prickling on the back of his neck. Loyalty caused him to ignore it, to agree when Sirius pushed. Loyalty caused him to ignore the feeling that he was making a mistake.

Loyalty, it seemed, was his downfall. Loyalty, which he'd considered one of his best traits, seemed to be his biggest flaw, in the end.

10. As he died, his thoughts and emotions were tangled and conflicting. He was filled with anger for not seeing that Wormtail was the spy, while telling himself it couldn't possibly be – that there was some other explaination. He felt regret that Harry would grow up without him, alongside a desperate hope that Lily would survive, would get their boy and run, live. He thought angrily that he should have picked up his wand – it was stupid, so stupid – even while he wondered who would find his body. He wondered how Sirius and Remus would get over this, if it'd be easy or hard for them.

But his last thought, in that last brief moment while his final breath entered his lungs, was of Lily and Harry. Not the danger, not the uncertanty of their future, but the way Harry smiled, the way Lily's eyes would light up when she laughed, the way Harry would run towards him, as fast as his little legs would let him, the way Lily could read him easily, and always seemed to know what to say. The way they looked together, the way they both fit easily in his arms, the way they both meant more to him than he could ever explain.


	37. Lily Potter I

Hi guys. Just to let you know that I've got this, then Luna, then Fleur, then Voldemort (Yes, a big one, lets see what you think of that. I think I did an OK job.) then I'll do Angelina, Audrey, and Snape, though I don't know the order on the last three yet, I haven't wirrten them. After that, I'll start doing requests. So start requesting now, if you've got any.

Thanks again for all the reviews. I really can't believe I've got that many.

37. Lily I

1. When she was little, she believed in fairy tales and magic and Santa Claus, even though Petunia told her that none of it was real, that it was just a story made up by the grown-us. Even when Lily was convinced she'd seen a fairy in their garden – just for a second – or when her own magic began to develop, Petunia would tell her it wasn't real.

Later, Lily would wonder if it was her childish beliefs that somehow made her more open to magic, more susceptible, and wondered if Petunia may have been a witch, too, if she'd only believed.

2. The first time she saw Severus, she felt sorry for him. He looked so uncared for, with his strange clothes and lost eyes. She saw something in him no one else could – she saw his capability for goodness. And she spent years trying to convince everyone it was there. That's why it hurt so much to lose him, why it was so hard to convince herself that she'd imagined all the goodness in him.

3. She loved Hogwarts, but that wasn't the reason why she dreaded the holidays. No, it was because every time she returned home she felt more distanced from her family, received more coldness for her sister. Every time she went home for the holidays, it would reinforce the feeling of being different, of not belonging, and she hated it.

4. For years James infuriated her. He made her mad, he made her want to cry, and he made her want to break something. But at the same time, he made her want to laugh – even though she had to fight it – he made her smile, just a little, and over the years, she developed some kind of affection towards him, because how boring would her life be without him around?

Of course, when that affection grew, strengthened, changed, she was annoyed with herself for weeks.

5. Whenever she remembers her wedding day, she also remembers the shadow that clouded it. It was a beautiful ceremony, a perfect day, and she was happy. But at the same time, some of the less necessary parts had been cut to save time, and everyone moved quickly to the reception, with a layer of fear in the atmosphere. While she recited her vows, while she celebrated with the people who mattered most, she had her wand fixed to the back of her dress, where she could easily reach it, just in case. While she danced with James, while Sirius gave his speech, she half expected Death Eaters to storm the place.

Voldemort, she'd think later, had been present that day, in all their minds.

6. Finding out she was pregnant was...emotional. Her first thought – and she tried to pretend otherwise, later, out of shame – was that she didn't want this baby now. It wasn't safe, the timing was all wrong, and what would she do?

But then, then, she thought that the timing couldn't be helped, that she was going to be a mother, James a father, they were going to have a baby, and wow, wasn't it amazing?

And if, during her pregnancy, she was terrified, if she wondered if they were doing the right thing, if she had a million doubts and fear, they were easy to silence, because this – a child – was something she'd always wanted.

7. The worst thing about the war, for her, was that it stole her confidence, her happiness. Everything, her wedding, her anniversary, her son's birth, and then his first birthday, they were all tainted. She couldn't feel truly happy for long, because then another friend would die, and the grief she'd just overcome would come back. She couldn't truly relax, because she had to be alert. She couldn't, whenever Harry reached a milestone – his first smile, learning to crawl, his first words, steps, broom ride – she couldn't just lose herself in the moment, because she'd worry how many more he would live to have, how many more she would live to see.

8. Then when Dumbledore told her Voldemort wanted Harry, the despair, fear, sorrow, all vanished, replaced with anger. How dare he? How dare he break her life, bit by bit, then plot to come for her son? How dare he decide to kill her baby? How dare he assume he was more powerful that she, than her love for her boy?

It was the anger that got her through, that kept her sane, kept her sharp enough to find the ancient magic that was her son's only real hope.

9. She knew, as she and James invested their lives in first Sirius, then Peter, as they surrounded their homes with pointless enchantments, as they told each other they'd be fine, that nothing would stop him. She knew that he'd find them, somehow – although she did trust Sirius and Peter, just as much as James – she knew that he'd kill them. Her and James. She knew that she would have to use their last resort, knew that she'd have to sacrifice herself. She knew, and never pretended otherwise.

10. She was crying as she barricaded the door to her son's bedroom, because James was down there with Voldemort, James was going to die, and how was she supposed to know that without crying? How was she supposed to focus on what she needed to do when he was dead?

She was sobbing as he burst through the door, because James was dead, because she was going to die, because she didn't know if Harry was going to live. Sobbing because she knew they'd blame Sirius for this, sobbing because she didn't know who was going to look after her son, sobbing because she'd never really made up with her sister, never met her nephew. Sobbing because there was so much more she wanted to do, and she wasn't going to. Sobbing because she'd liked being a mother, being a wife, being Lily, and it was all over now.


	38. Luna Lovegood

Wow, again, my reviews. I love you all.

About the requests, since Bellatrix, Wormtail and Dumbledore were the most asked for, they'll be done soon. All the rest have been taken on board, so just keep waiting, k?

So, I put off doing Luna for a while, because I wasn't sure I'd be able to do her properly. As much as I love her, she's very unique, and I think I've ended up doing a too serious one here. But I guess she can have some seriousness, and I actually like how it came out.

38. Luna

1. She doesn't have lots of memories with her mother in them, but she remembers her. She remembers how soft her hair was, how smooth her skin was, how she'd hug Luna all the time, without any reason. She remembers her smile, her voice, her scent, her laugh.

2. She remembers, also, her mother's death. How could she ever forget it? She remembers how her mum was smiling, and talking to her. And then, then she was lain on the floor, too still, her eyes closed. And Luna knew, she knew she was dead, and she just started screaming, screaming until someone heard, someone came in, someone held her and told her it was OK, it was all OK.

How, though, Luna remembers thinking, could it be OK? Her mum was dead.

3. She wasn't scared of going to Hogwarts. Her mum had always told her what a great place it was, and she was looking forward to it. That's why it hurt so much – she was good at hiding it, but it hurt – when she didn't make friends, when people looked at her like that, when people said stuff about her.

They said she was crazy. She wasn't. But she had to believe there was more, more to the world, because otherwise the world was a difficult place to be in.

4. She was rather protective of her father. Because she saw something vulnerable in him, and because she'd lost her mum. Because they'd lost her mum. He'd never been the same since then.

That was why, though she was angry when she found out that he had tried to give Harry, Ron and Hermione to the Death Eaters, she understood. Because she really was all he had in the world, and how could she possibly stay mad at him for loving her so much, for wanting her safe?

5. Ginny was the first person she ever counted as a friend. She'd been thinking for a while that maybe they were, maybe this counted, but she wasn't sure. And then Ginny introduced to her someone – Luna doesn't even remember who – as "my friend Luna" at the end of their fifth year.

It was the nicest feeling she'd had in a long while, and Luna would never forget it. And when Ginny told her what Lily's middle name was, she almost cried. She must, then, be important to both Ginny and Harry, for them to do that for her.

If she had a daughter, her middle names would be Ginny and Hermione. She alwas kind of wished for another child, a little girl, just to honour them.

6. Neville was the second person. This, too, was at the end of her fifth year, at Dumbledore's funeral when she was helping him into a chair. He smiled through his pain, and told her she was a great friend. To be called not only a friend, but a great one, gave her a burst of happiness for weeks.

And while, later, she'd understand and Harry, Ron and Hermione all counted her as their friends, Ginny and Neville would always be the most important, and the most special, to her. Because they were the first.

7. Being locked in the Malfoys's cellar was the worst time of her life, and the reason she never forgave Draco, and the reason she watched Scorpius Malfoy very closely at the beginning of his and Lily's relationship. Because she knew her dad and her friends would be worried, because she knew she was no help to the cause while locked away, because she knew that she could be murdered anytime, and she didn't want to die.

Ollivander, and then Dean, helped her through it, but getting out was like breathing again.

8. She got on very well with Fleur, and even years afterwards they've remained friends. Because the woman was so nice to her, because she let her into her home and let she'd talk to her, whenever Luna looked upset.

Sometimes, she wonders if she'd have any friends, if not for the war, and she wonders if fate can really be that twisted.

9. She may have gathered friends, but Rolf was the only person who ever understood her completely. She knew, when he listened to her talk about Nargles and all the rest, when he looked at her seriously and said "You just might be right – I'm sure I've felt them around..." that he was the one.

10. Her boys are her life. When she argued with Lysander about the need for the war, she knew she wouldn't do it now, wouldn't fight now. Because she wouldn't risk losing them. Because she wouldn't let them lose their mum like she lost hers.

And that, sometimes, shames her a little, because she'd never considered not fighting at the time.


	39. Fleur Delacour Weasley

39. Fleur

1. When she first started school, she wasn't very good at magic. She made the wrong wand movements, lost track of how many times she'd stirred potions, mixed up her charms and often missed her target when transfiguring things. She had to work twice as hard as a lot of people, but eventually she caught up.

That was why becoming school champion was such an achievement for her.

2. Cedric's death was the first she'd ever experienced. She'd lost one set of grandparents before her birth, and another set at an age too young to remember. So seeing his lifeless body – before someone pulled her away – was devastating. This was a boy she'd spoken to, several times. A boy she'd known, a boy she'd liked. And he was – he was just gone, so easily, so suddenly.

3. Moving to England was a hard decision. Leaving her parents, her sister, her friends. But she felt drawn to the place, and she believed Harry about Voldemort's return. And she knew that she had to be here, where she could help, where she could fight.

But she'll never forget the look on Gabrielle's face when she told her. She looked so hurt, and Fleur almost changed her mind.

4. The first time she met Bill, he annoyed her. At first glance, she was rather interested, but then he seemed to assume she was some French bimbo. It lasted about an hour, until she flipped, yelled at him. And then he reconsidered her and after a while she reconsidered him, and somehow they ended up on a date.

5. Meeting his family, though, was the least-fun experience she'd ever had. They judged her quickly, and seemed to think they understood her. It was hard to pretend she wasn't bothered, and several times she had to wonder if Bill was worth it.

She still occasionally resents that it took a werewolf attack for them to see her as she really was, but they've all moved past that now.

6. She was terrified throughout the war. Constantly terrified, during that last year, feeling close to tears every time he left the house. She was scared he'd die, scared his family – the family she'd come to regard as her own – would die. It was an emotional rollercoaster, and she doesn't know how much longer she'd have been able to live like that.

7. Fred's death was hard for her too, although she was often overlooked during the weeks that followed it. She'd liked him a lot, and had idea what to do, for Molly, for George, for Bill. She felt completely helpless, and she hates feeling that way.

8. Victoire's birth seemed to give the family the most happiness since the war. It was the first time she'd seen Molly smile like that – with her eyes – the first time she'd heard Arthur laugh with real joy, since that final fight.

It's a point of pride that she was the one to do that, the first to bear a Weasley grandchild, the mother of their source of happiness.

9. She really did want her kids to go to Beauxbatons. Not just because it's where she went, or because she wanted their French connection to be more real to them, but because Hogwarts, for her, connected with danger. Cedric died there. Bill was attacked there. The last battle happened there. Nothing like that ever happened at Beauxbatons, and she wanted her kids to be safe.

10. Before she first went there, for the Triwizard, she never thought she'd end up in England. Never thought she'd marry an English man, bring her kids up on that side of the channel. But now, she can't imagine living anywhere else, being married to anywhere else, bringing her kids up anywhere else.


	40. Voldemort

Well since its chapter 40 I thought I'd go for a big one. Maybe I should have waited till fifty...Ah well, it's here now. I'm pretty happy with how it came out, because I thought it would be a lot harder than I actually found it.

40. Tom Riddle/Voldemort

1. His earliest memory is a mess of noise and children. He doesn't know how old he was, or even truly if there are other memories preceding this. But he remembers being very small, and feeling very inconspicuous as the workers busied around the older, louder children, or the screaming babies. No one noticed him, stood in the corner with clothes that were slightly too small, and dirty.

He knew then that he'd grow up to be important, so he'd never again be overlooked, be ignored.

2. He disliked Albus Dumbledore from their first meeting. Because he'd already become feared by the other children – and this, he believed, was the same as importance – and the workers would already look at him thoughtfully, would make sure to give him attention first, because there was something about that kid that made them think something bad would happen if they didn't. And Dumbledore treated him as if he wasn't special, as if he was just like all the others.

And he knew then that this man would be a problem. But he also knew problems could be removed.

3. It was easy, once at Hogwarts, to convince them all that he was brilliant. To manipulate everyone. To gather followers, to make them call him Lord. Other, lesser, wizards would have been surprised at how easy it was. But not him. Of course it was easy. Everything was easy for him. He was special.

4. The first time he stepped into the store he would find his first job in, he was filled with a rare amazement. The place had so many things he wanted, needed, and he knew that it would be a stepping stone on his path to greatness.

But Hogwarts was always, always the most important, the most special place to him.

5. He had, since the staff at the orphanage told him his mother was dead, been determined to find immortality. But the first time he saw his face in a mirror, changed in his quest, he felt disgust, annoyance, because his looks had been part of his charm, a weapon used to get what he wanted. But also, because of the very human vanity he possessed. And yet it was this that made him even more determined to become more than human, better than human. Because the humanity that still resided in him – demonstrated by his vanity – was something he despised and wanted rid of.

6. He despised all of his followers. All of mankind, really. But his followers were, to him, worse than the others. Because at least his enemies, at least those who attempted to fight him, showed bravery, showed dignity. His followers were weak, pathetic, bowing to his every whim, cowering in fear of him.

If he didn't require them, he'd have killed them all.

7. He wasn't going to recruit Pettigrew, but he came across the man during an attack, raised his wand ready to kill him, and saw the weakness in his eyes. He wanted a spy, an inside man, and knew, looking into the man's eyes, that he would be easily manipulated. He stepped forward, and hissed, "How badly do you want to live?"

The rest was easy, and the rat turned out to be useful after all.

8. He killed James Potter easily, disgusted by the man willing to sacrifice himself for others. The man who died because he loved. He killed Lily Potter easily, rather pleased that he got to, because he hadn't liked the idea of leaving her behind, alive, no matter what Snape wanted. But turning his wand on the boy, uttering the spell, and feeling the terrible, blinding pain, white-hot and ice-cold, sharp and dull, stabbing and tearing, he thought he was dying, thought it was all over, had all been for nothing.

And though he'd never admit it, even to himself, he'd have rather died, rather had been ended in one quick, painless second, than have all that pain and be reduced to such a pathetic being.

9. When he got his body back, he honestly believed he'd never die again. He believed this was it, that he could do it right, that he could succeed. Even when Harry got away, it was just a hitch in the plans, not a huge problem.

He was, after all, unstoppable.

10. When he tried to kill Harry – thought he'd killed him – he lost consciousness. He was surrounded by white, screaming in pain – it was like white-hot needles all over his skin – but when he came back around, he decided it was worth it. So seeing him back – having escaped death yet again – was infuriating. And for the briefest moment, it was like being that small, insignificant boy again, who couldn't compete with the older, louder kids. For that brief moment he thought he'd lose.

But then, even as the green light sped towards him, even as his final breath entered and exited his lungs, he was convinced this wasn't it. Something – anything – would keep him tethered to life. He'd stay, he'd win, he was the lord, he was special, powerful. He couldn't die, he couldn't – he couldn't be nothing, not again...

And then it was over.


	41. Angelina Johnson Weasley

Thanks for the Voldemort reviews, glad you all seemed to like it. OK, so am just getting this one out of the way, really. Have got this, then Audrey, then Snape, then Dumbledore. That's all I've got written so far.

Not my best, and might be too Fred-centric, but she isn't a character I was ever particulary interested in.

41. Angelina

1. You could say she had a sheltered childhood. She was so used to magic that, until she was ten, she didn't even know there were such thing as muggle-borns. Still, she was told in such a way that she simply accepted them and, later, couldn't understand the discrimination.

Also, she didn't know anything about the first war or Voldemort until she reached Hogwarts, and Alicia told her. Her parents told her that they hadn't wanted to scare her, that he was gone, that it didn't matter.

That's why she was so scared when she found out he was back. Because she didn't really understand, didn't really know what to do, and felt, really, like her parents had lied to her.

2. Being in the DA didn't really feel serious. She never considered she'd have to use the stuff, have to face him or his Death Eaters. It felt more like a game. Something to get her through her exams, but nothing more.

That's why, when she heard about out Harry and Ron and the others had gone to the ministry, she was glad she hadn't, because she wasn't prepared. That's why she was glad she hadn't been at Hogwarts the night Dumbledore died, because she wouldn't have been able to fight and then she'd have felt like a coward.

3. But still, when she had no choice other than to fight on that final night. Even though it meant sneaking out of the house, even though it meant she could have died, she had to. Because if she'd just sat at home, knowing what was happening but hiding away, she'd never have been able to live with herself.

Besides, she was a Gryffindor.

4. She was, at first, shocked and relived to find herself alive when Voldemort gave them their hour, their reprieve. And then she saw the Weasleys gathered around something, someone...

Fred was her friend. Fred was like a brother to her. Fred was dead.

5. After that night, there was an almost anti-climactic feeling about it. She couldn't explain it, but it was hard to accept it was over, that he was really, truly gone, that everyone was supposed to go back to normal.

After that, how could anything ever be normal?

6. She never meant to fall for George. Her one disastrous attempt to date Fred had been enough to convince her the twins were her friends, and nothing more. But she spent a lot of time with George, helping him, and somehow it just...developed. And for a little while, she fought it, because there was still something broken about him, and she didn't want to attempt something and end up realising it was a bad idea, like she and Fred had. She couldn't mess with his emotions like that.

But some things can't be fought successfully – and in the end, she lost that particular battle. It's one of the best things she's ever done.

7. The first time George took her to the Burrow, she was nervous. But Molly looked so pleased that he'd finally found someone, and Arthur was nice to her, and Ron – although he seemed unsure what to say – seemed happy for them, and Harry smiled at her and Ginny hugged her and Hermione said it was about time, and Bill and Fleur welcomed her. But Percy looked at her, then George, then said loudly and with a hint of anger in his voice; "Weren't you Fred's girlfriend?"

He'd seen them at the Yule Ball, and obviously assumed...and the awkward silence made her want to just run for the door.

George looked suddenly angry, and for a moment she couldn't think of anything to say. It was Hermione who turned to Percy, rolled her eyes and said, "No. They went to the ball all those years ago, but they were just friends. Girls and boys _can_ just be friends, Percy."

Then she turned back to Angelina, smiled, and told her to ignore him. She was, for a long while, extremely grateful.

8. When she found out she was pregnant, her initial joy was replaced by worry. Because what would George think? Would he be mad, or sad? Was he ready for this?

But when she told him, she realised he was, though slightly broken still – and he probably always would be – not fragile. He was stronger than she let herself believe, and it was then that she realised she could depend on him, lean on him.

9. She's the one who explained to her kids about their Uncle Fred. Because George, though he knew they had be told, just couldn't bring himself to do it. And she was glad it was her when she saw the pity in their eyes – because George hated pity.

10. Still, after all these years, Fred's absence is present in their lives. When George is extremely tired, he'll pause half-way through a sentence, as if waiting for Fred to finish it. When Molly is distracted at the huge family dinners, she'll lay an extra setting, out of a habit that hasn't died. When her children talk of their uncles, there's a name absent from their lips, and it pains her.

But she knows that, despite it all, she's lucky that George survived, lucky that his family accepted her, lucky that she has the life she has, the kids she has, despite the cracks and gaps their lives may have.


	42. Audrey Weasley

Well I've just looked at my stats...and saw the amount of reviews for this...and this is the first time I've ever got a thousand reviews, so I'd hug you all if I could. Big virtual hugs to everyone who's ever reviewed.

42. Audrey

1. She was brought up to believe that magic wasn't real. She never even believed in Santa Claus. Her parents were the no-nonsense type, and her imagination was under-developed, even as a young child.

These days, she finds that little fact rather funny.

2. When she first met Percy, he didn't seem like the kind of person she'd like. She was a little lost in London – not being from the city natively – and tried to use a phone box. Well, she stepped inside, didn't see the faded "Out of Order" sign, and tried to use it, which infuriated the red-haired man who'd suddenly ran to the phone box. She found him rather obnoxious, impatient, and rather wanted to hang around in that little box all day just to annoy him.

Much later she learned he'd been trying to prevent her from entering the ministry. But whose bright idea had it been to use a public phone box as a visitors' entrance?

3. She couldn't ever explain why she agreed to let him by her a drink, to apologise for shouting at her. But there was just something about him, something in his eyes. He'd looked a little lost, a little broken, and she was the kind of person that liked to help.

He told her, on their third date, a little about his family, and then about his brother's death. That explained the eyes, she'd thought, and felt compelled to heal him.

4. He told her about magic on their three-month anniversary. At first, she didn't believe him, and then he showed her. She was terrified, and fled up the stairs, locked herself in her bathroom, convinced that her whole was falling apart, that this man with his tricks and illusions – because they had to just be tricks and illusions, magic wasn't real – was going to kill her.

Then, then when he persuaded her to listen, to talk, to try to understand, she was kind of mad that he'd waited so long to tell her.

And when he'd gone on about the rules, the laws, she'd got even madder, before just realising that this was Percy – his fanaticism about rules, laws, it was just a Percy, a part of him. And that made it easier to understand.

5. Still, she was nervous about meeting his family, unsure what they'd think of her. To her big surprise, they just accepted her. They were, she realised, just like normal people. Even if his father did make her explain how lawnmowers worked, and pronounce electricity wrong. They were nice people, and she fell in love with the lot of them easily.

6. But finding out she was pregnant was terrifying. Because was it normal, for a muggle to be able to have a magical baby? Were wizarding pregnancies the same as muggle ones, or would this mess her up? Would it even kill her?

And even when Percy told her it was fine, it was common, it was safe, she still worried. She was a muggle – how was she supposed to understand her child? How was she supposed to be able to bring up a kid who could jut jinx her if it wanted? How –

But then she had Molly, held Molly, and none of it mattered. This was her child, and everything would be OK – she'd make it work.

And she loved Molly so much she talked Percy into having another one.

7. When Lucy, during an argument, snapped, "What do you know, you're not even a witch?" it hurt. A lot. Because, as much as she loved her husband, his family, and her kids, she sometimes felt insecure about her place in their world. She wasn't born into it, and didn't that mean she didn't belong there? Didn't her lack of magical powers mean she was supposed to live in the muggle world, oblivious to the existence of Percy and his kind?

Sometimes she felt awkward, when she had to go the ministry events with Percy, or even at the Weasleys' family dinners, because she wasn't a witch, and there was no denying it.

8. Once, Lucy was injured at Hogwarts, in a duel with a fellow student. She wasn't badly hurt, but Audrey would always remember the sheer fear, because she didn't truly understand it. And all she could think was the magic could kill, that it did kill – Percy had told her of the war, of what magic could do, of who magic _had_ killed. That was the only time she ever considered taking her girls and leaving Percy, living as muggles, where magic couldn't hurt her daughters.

But, once she saw Lucy and was assured that she really as fine, she realised how irrational she'd been, and that leaving just wasn't a possibility. Even if she could have broken away from her husband, her daughters would never have agreed.

9. Her daughters had limited contact with her parents, before they died. They didn't understand, couldn't accept, the world Audrey had become a part of, the world their granddaughters belonged in. And, to Audrey's bitter disappointment, that created a space between them that she never managed to combat.

10. She knows where Percy goes, when he goes to Fred's grave. Sometimes she worries, but mostly she understands. And she knows he doesn't want her to go with him – that he has to be alone.

But she has, a few times, gone there alone herself, just to try and get some kind of picture of the person she's never met. It hasn't worked, and she's been forced to accept that she was simply too late to meet him.


	43. Severus Snape

This came out longer than I thought it would be, but I think I did OK. 'Specially since I don't like the character. May be too Lily-centric, though. After this we've got Dumbledore and Bellatrix...and then I haven't writen any more...I should probably go do that now...

43. Snape

1. His earliest memories are of his father shouting at his mother. Of cowering in corners, on stairways, behind doors, listening, terrified. And as much as he tried to forget, the memories won't erase, won't die. Even when he removed them, placed them in the pensive, they're still there, as though they've left stains in his mind, stains that will never fade.

2. For a long, long time, whenever anyone called him Snape, he'd think of his father, and he'd hate it. He didn't want to be a Snape.

But then, when people called him Severus, he'd think of her, and after he lost her, "Severus" was even harder to hear.

3. There was something about Lily – from the first moment he saw her, the small red-head girl with eyes that he couldn't stop thinking about – something about her that made him want to look at her, to stand close to her, to talk to her, know her. She was happiness, goodness, all the things his life lacked. And although it took years before he knew he was really, completely in love with her, after her death he'd think that he'd really loved her from that first moment he looked into her eyes.

4. He'd wanted to be in Slytherin for as long as he could remember, but when he saw her walk to the Gryffindor table, casting him an apologetic glance, he wanted, more than anything, to be with her.

But the hat, the hat placed him in Slytherin, and he never forgave it. He believed, always, that if he'd followed her to Gryffindor everything would have been different. Because it was that first dinner that Avery spoke to him, that Lucius spoke to him. It was that first dinner that she started slipping away from him. So he blames that hat for it all, because it's so much easy to cast the blame on an object that has never had the opportunity to argue back.

5. He never really believed that she'd leave him, though. She was too important to him to give up on him so easily. Even when they went their separate ways, he always thought they'd make up. But then he said that word – and it was a word he'd never even thought about her, something he didn't consider her to be, so he's never understood why it slipped out – and he saw the hurt in those eyes. That hurt was present every time she saw him, and then after a while it was tainted with anger, too. And he knew, the second that hurt flashed, that he really had lost her. And when she, on their final day at Hogwarts, grabbed his arm and pleaded with him not to become a Death Eater, not to join _him_, when she told him there was goodness in him, that he didn't belong with them, he couldn't believe her, because she wasn't his anymore. She was – as everyone could see – in love with Potter – and it had to be Potter, didn't it? – and he knew that she was going to marry Potter, and that nothing he did would ever get her back.

So he shook her off, told her that she was pure, good, innocent, and everything he wasn't. He told her he'd made his choice and she couldn't stop him. And then, because he loved her, still, he told her to stay safe.

Then he walked away.

6. But he loved her, and it hurt to find out she was married, was pregnant, had had a son. But when Voldemort told him that he thought the prophecy referred to Lily's son, that he was going to kill her and the boy and her husband, that hurt more than anything else. He couldn't, _couldn't_ let her die. Not Lily...

It was frustrating that he did what she wanted – switched sides, started hating Voldemort – to save her life, and still he failed.

And her death...the words hit him, hit his heart, one by one, and he really though he was going to die from the pain. He never forgave himself for living when she didn't, for darkening the world that she had lightened.

7. He had, ironically, been afraid of giving her son preferential treatment. Because he was hers, and Dumbledore had told him he had her eyes, and he couldn't imagine her eyes in any face but hers. So he expected a male version of her, expected to treat him different, better, than everyone else, and instead...

At first, when he saw the boy, he just saw the face. Potter's face. And he thought Dumbledore must have lied, that he didn't have her eyes after all. That he just looked like Potter. And then Harry looked up, and he saw the eyes – her eyes – and the anger and hate burned. Because how dare he have her eyes? How dare he have her eyes on that face? He was Potter, he was certain of it then, just Potter all over again with her eyes; eyes he didn't deserve to have...

8. When he entered Lupin's office and saw that map, the first thing he noticed was Lupin himself, hurrying along the passageway. And he knew, right then, that Black must be there too. And everything else was forgotten as he hurried for the castle. He'd catch Black, he'd kill Black, because it was Black's fault Lily was dead –

And then he found the cloak, knew Potter was there, and for one brief moment, he forgot it was Harry, thought it was James, and somehow thought that if he killed Black now he could save her...But then it was all clear again, and his rage burned more. Her son was going to waste her sacrifice on the same man who'd betrayed her, and he wouldn't let it happen. He'd protected the damn boy for too long for it to happen.

9. It was hard to live with Wormtail for that brief period, because he desperately wanted to kill him. It was, he knew, Voldemort testing him, but sometimes he thought it would be worth it, just to end the rat that betrayed her.

10. Killing Dumbledore was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. And seeing Lily's eyes – even if they were on Potter's face – full of hate, made it even worse. Taking over the school, taking his place, made him hate himself, and Albus, for making him do it.

But as the snake attacked him, all he could think was that he hadn't done what he was supposed to, hadn't told Harry what he had to do, he'd failed. And what if Lily's son died because of it?

And then Harry was there, and he was forcing the memories out, even as his breathing got more and more forced. And yet, all he could think was that really, as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, the boy was like his mother, was like Lily...

And then, because he had to, he died looking to those eyes, pretending it was Lily.


	44. Albus Dumbledore

44. Albus Dumbledore

1. He knew, on his very first lesson at Hogwarts, that he was different. Better, he thought at the time, although that shamed him later. Because while all those around him seemed slightly confused by all the notes they were taking, seemed convinced they'd be unable to do the magic the professor described to them, he understood instantly, and knew – just instinctively knew – that he'd be able to do it.

2. When he was little, maybe five or six, Aberforth had a bad dream, and woke him, shaking slightly and close to tears. Albus comforted him, promised him that the monsters in his dreams weren't real, and swore that he'd always protect him, always be there for him.

For his entire adult life he regretted breaking that promise, despised himself for it.

3. Although he understood, of course, why his father had murdered those boys, and although if he'd been a little older, a little more skilled, Albus himself may have done the same, he's never forgiven him for it. Because that decision, that rage, meant that his dad had to go away, and leave behind a damaged daughter, two lost, confused boys and a wife who suddenly had to learn to cope under strain she'd never anticipated.

4. His mother's death was difficult, painful, and all the others things a mother's death is supposed to be. But Albus felt guilty, too. Not just because he hadn't been there at the time, or because he knew he ought to have helped with his sister more, but because his first thought on hearing of her death was that everything was ruined now. He knew that he'd have to look after his sister, knew that he'd have to give up all his hopes and dreams and plans, and for almost a full minute, the bitter disappointment and anger that this overrode any sorrow.

But Ariana's death was worse. Much, much worse. Because, while he never did find out just who cast the spell that ended her short, troubled life, he knew that it was his fault. Whether he'd held the wand or not, it was his entire fault. He had, he thought, looking at her pale, lifeless body, still bearing the heat of life, killed her, killed his sister.

5. Gellert...Gellert had been his lifeline. Condemned to staying in that tiny village, looking after his broken sister and the brother who was already distanced from him, when he should have been living a better, brighter life, Gellert was the light. Gellert was his equal, someone who understood him, someone who thought the same way he did. A reprieve, from the struggle his life had become. Maybe it was only natural, only expected that the gratitude and admiration and friendship would grow into love. Depending on someone that much, it was only expected to feel that way, some twist on Stockholm Syndrome.

And after...Ariana, when Gellert had fled and his sister was gone and Aberforth couldn't look him in the eye, he told himself that it wasn't really love. Or that, those times when he'd caught Gellert looking at him with...something, in his eyes, those times when he'd been sure Gellert was on the verge of doing something, the times when his hand would rest on his arm just longer than necessary, they were all just in his mind, all just a production of his own feelings and his longing for them to be returned.

But then, all those years later, when they faced one another and Albus thought he'd either have to kill or be killed, Gellert met his eyes, and it was still there. All those old feelings, the love, returned. So he simply weakened him, won his wand, incarcerated him. And right before they led him away, Gellert met his eyes, shook his head ever so slightly and said, "I could never have killed you, Albus. Anyone else, but not you."

For the rest of his years, those words tormented him, his mind filled with what-ifs, could-have-beens, and if-onlys.

6. When Aberforth broke his nose, that day on Ariana's funeral, he wasn't surprised, nor did he attempt to stop him, or retaliate. And because it was far less than he felt he deserved, because there was nothing he could do to fix his brother's broken heart, he didn't magically fix it. He let it heal itself, crooked and continuously blocked on one side. For many years, others would ask why he kept it that way, why he didn't heal it, or else they offered to fix it for him, but Albus considered it a mark of his repentance.

7. When Voldemort's crusade started, when people began to die, he cursed himself. Because he could have – should have – stopped it. Once again, he hadn't seen it in time, hadn't acted in time, and because of it, people were dying.

This was the reason he didn't truly trust Severus Snape until he saw pure anguish in the man's eyes, upon hearing of Lily's death. Because he couldn't let himself make a mistake yet again.

8. He watched James Potter, watched him grow as a person and attempt to win Lily Evans's heart. He was one of the few who believed they would really end up together. On several occasions, he had James in his office, asking him for the reason behind his last misdemeanour, only to have the boy offer him a sheepish grin and admit he'd been trying to impress "someone". Albus would then assure him that she was bound to come around some time, much to the boy's happiness.

That was why seeing their lifeless bodies was so hard. Because they were happy, they were whole, and they belonged together. With so much life left in them both, it seemed so unfair that they be ended to soon, after he'd watched them grow and change and find each other.

9. Maybe that was why he instantly cared for their son. Maybe it was merely a part of it, coupled with his knowledge of both what the boy's future would hold and what his past had contained. But he soon realised he cared, he worried, far too much for Harry.

Only, however, when Harry collapsed on the grass beside the maze, shaking and sweating and clutching the wrist of dead body, horror and fear and grief in his eyes when he told him that Voldemort was back, did he realised that he actually loved him, in the same way James would have done.

10. For the briefest moment when Severus told him he had but a year to live, he felt regret, fear and sorrow. Because, really, he wasn't completely ready to die, wasn't prepared.

But over the year he accepted it, set his affairs in order, made sure everything was meticulously planned. And when he faced Severus on the tower, his only sorrow came from the knowledge of what both that man and Harry would have to endure now. Because it had to end now, he had to, and he felt close to indifferent about it by now.


	45. Bellatrix Lestrange

Another big thanks and virtual hugs - unless you;re that kind of person who really doesn't like human contact - for everyone who reviewed. Not sure on this one. i think it has it's highs and it's lows.

45. Bellatrix

1. When she was little, her dad used to call her a princess. Obviously, she grew out of it pretty quickly, and she learned to despise it, but when she joined Voldemort, when the mark was burned into her skin, her father's voice floated into her mind. _Princess_...And she couldn't help but smile, because even though princesses went with princes, she felt that a Lord was just as good.

2. As a child, Narcissa got sick often, and she was so slim and small and pale and delicate looking, that for a long time Bella felt as though she ought to protect her.

Maybe it was Voldemort, maybe it was Azkaban, but by the time her Lord wanted Draco, she had no protective feelings left for her sister, or, indeed, any love.

Her Lord was right, after all. Love was a fool's game.

3. She never saw it coming. When Andromeda admitted that the rumours were true, that she was seeing that mudblood, Bella felt as though she'd been slapped. How could she? How could her own sister, her own flesh and blood, be a traitor? How?

She watched her sister leave, glaring in satisfaction. Narcissa looked upset, her mother looked ashamed, her father looked so angry, but Bella was just satisfied. Because the moment Andromeda betrayed them, she was no longer good enough for their family, for their name, for their home.

4. Azkaban was...worth it, she told herself over and over. Worth it for her Lord. She never regretted her crimes, and knew that she'd be rewarded, one day. But the screams. In her head, day and night, and they just wouldn't leave her alone, wouldn't silence, wouldn't let her sleep, wouldn't let her think, and she couldn't, just couldn't drown them out, couldn't shut them up, and she didn't even know who she was anymore, and why she was here, why were they screaming, and why wouldn't they just stop?!

5. She never forgave Lucius for lying and cheating his way out of Azkaban, even though he angrily told her that he had a wife and child to support, and if she wanted to waste years of her life in some cell slowly going mad, then that was fine, but he wasn't going to do the same.

And she despised him, because she was certain that he just wasn't loyal enough, that wives and children and madness had nothing to do with it. She was loyal, she was the best, and she often wanted to kill that pathetic man.

6. She married her husband only for his blood. If he hadn't been a pureblood, if he hadn't been from a rich, respected family, she never would have done so. She has no love for him, no respect, no...anything.

But he loves her, and she loves the power that gives her.

7. Sometimes, just sometimes, when she's particularly tired, she sort of wishes her Lord would value her more, would respect her as she does him, would put her in charge more often and realise just how loyal she is. Of course, the thought soon dies, and she pretends that it never existed.

8. She never regretted killing Sirius. He wasn't her family anymore, as far as she was concerned. He was also fighting her. He was an obstacle, an annoyance, and she killed him without hesitation. She felt nothing, thought nothing of it.

Likewise, she felt no sorrow over Regulus' death, even though it was she who led him to her Lord, she who watched the mark burn into his skin, she who took him along as often as possible, in the hopes that he'd finally kill. She felt nothing, thought nothing of it.

9. But when she killed her niece, looked down at the pale, lifeless face, she couldn't help but think how this was going to devastate Andromeda, who was, after all, already a widow. But still, she felt no regret, no sorrow, because Andromeda wasn't even her sister.

10. She honestly never saw her death coming. Maybe she thought her loyalty would tie her to her Lord forever, and she believed he was immortal. Maybe she just thought herself too skilled and powerful to be killed. But she never saw the Weasley woman as a threat. That's why she was still laughing when the curse hit her, why, even as the life rushed out of her, she didn't believe it was real.


	46. Astoria Greengrass Malfoy

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed.

46. Astoria

1. She was born into one of those old, pure-blood, families, attending fancy important events before she could even walk. She had learned, by the age of four, how to politely introduce herself to important people, then stand silently beside her mother or her father, looking graceful and dignified.

Still, her parents weren't muggle-haters, nor muggle-born haters, so she knows that, despite being used as some kind of status symbol – look at how smart and regal my daughter is – she had it better than some.

2. She isn't particularly pretty. One of those girls who goes unnoticed in the street. One of those who stood by and watched her prettier friends get male attention, while she hung around on the sidelines, wishing someone would glance her way. One of those girls who, for a long time, was convinced she was ugly.

She's also rather shy, meaning that she couldn't attract attention through her personality, either.

3. The wizarding world expected Draco Malfoy to marry a beautiful, rich woman. Instead, he wanted her. Initially, though, although she loved spending time with him, she was reluctant to marry. Because as a Malfoy's wife, she would be expected to do everything she had as a child, before she was old enough to refuse. She would have to attend those parties, would have to stand on the arm of a man and look graceful and dignified, treated as a status symbol again.

Then he promised her she'd never have to go anywhere she didn't want to, never have to speak to anyone she didn't want to, and that he'd never introduce her as "my wife."

She married him; he kept his promises.

4. She knew of the Malfoy's one-son tradition. Many families of their ilk had one like it, and it was easy to accept. And while she never had a clear longing for more, she'd often wonder what it would be like to have a couple more kids around the place...a brother or sister for Scorpius...

5. She isn't clumsy, exactly. But somehow she's managed to injure herself countless times over the years, breaking or fracturing many bones, and collecting numerous scars.

6. In the month before Scorpius left for Hogwarts, she had a little panic about sending him away, and tried to convince both her son and husband that she could teach him at home. Because she didn't want him all those miles away. Because she knew that he'd get picked on at school, for his father and grandfather's actions. Because she was terrified that he'd change while away from her, and when he came home she wouldn't know him anymore...

But she didn't manage to convince him, and had to let him go. Surprisingly, it was Narcissa who sat with her for those first few days, talking to her and telling her Scorpius would be fine.

7. She didn't want to give Scorpius that name. Draco came up with it, and tried to talk her into using it for most of her pregnancy. Then, holding him for the first time, tired and over-whelmed, he tried again and she didn't have the energy to do otherwise.

She chose the middle name, though, after her grandfather. She often thinks now that, if they were giving him such a first name, they should have given him a nice, normal middle name.

8. Pansy Parkinson turned up at her wedding, and tried to talk Draco out of it, twenty minutes before the ceremony. It was Astoria's sister who removed her, and Astoria never did find out how. Never asked, either. It was easier to just hate the woman for trying to ruin everything, be glad Draco wasn't even tempted, and just forget it all.

9. When Scorpius told her about him and Lily, she laughed. Because she couldn't wait to see Draco's face, or Lucius'. So at first it was a point of amusement for her. Then she met the girl, and decided that she liked her, decided that Lily Potter was good enough for her little boy.

Though she was very careful to tell Lily of the one-son tradition, after Scorpius proposed. To her delight, Lily raised her eyebrows, and said, "So if we have a son first, that's all, we're not allowed anymore?" And when Astoria nodded, she replied, "Well that's just tough, isn't it, because me and Scorpius will have as many as we want."

That was when she truly decided Lily was meant for her son.

10. Draco's family are still judged in the wizarding community, disliked and distrusted throughout it. She's received some aggravation herself, for marrying into it. But it took her only a few months to get over it. Because, really, it's her life, and she's happy with it.


	47. Peter Pettigrew

More thanks for the reviews. I'd reply to you all, as someone recently told me I should, but it would take up way too much time - meaning I'd never get anything else written - and it'd take up room in all your inboxes, too. But trust me, I'm really, really grateful.

47. Wormtail

1. He never liked what he saw when he looked in the mirror. Even as a young boy, he wanted to be taller, stronger, better. Maybe he thought James, Sirius and Remus could make him better. Maybe he thought Voldemort could. But he was never, ever, happy with himself.

2. His sorting took a really long time, and gave him a lot to think about. The first thing the hat said was that he was going to be difficult. Not Ravenclaw material, it said, without any hesitance, which may have insulted him had it not known it was true. Not Hufflepuff, either, it said, and he was surprised because he'd figured that's where he'd end up. Later, he realised that Hufflepuff's quality was loyalty and he...well. The hat seemed to consider Slytherin for a while, before saying, rather worriedly, that Slytherin would send him down a dark path, and he didn't want that.

So he was Gryffindor by default, and he always knew it. And, as it turned out, he didn't need Slytherin to go down that dark path.

3. James was the first friend he made. The first person to give him a chance. Sirius seemed to think he wasn't worth the bother, and Remus seemed, for those first few days, too preoccupied to talk to him. James and Sirius were already friends by the time they reached the castle, and they started talking to Remus at the table. But James spoke to him next morning, and Peter thought straight away that he wanted to be friends with him, and Sirius and Remus. And he knew, always, that if not for James giving him that first chance, he wouldn't have had any friends at Hogwarts.

That's why he felt more guilty about James' death than he would have had it been Sirius or Remus.

4. His whole life at Hogwarts was a struggle. The lessons. Talking to his peers. And then he left Hogwarts and joined the order, because that's where his friends were and he didn't have the guts to say no. But he was sick of doing things the hard way, of struggling.

So when Voldemort offered him a way out of dying, an easy way...He said yes before he even thought about, too desperate to live, too scared of death.

5. He had a crush on Lily Evans for a little while. And even though James had liked her longer, and even though Peter had never done anything about it, he couldn't help but feel disappointed and resentful when James finally got the girl.

6. The first time he held Harry, the baby cried. And not just a little bit, either, but really screamed, until James took him and hugged him.

Later, he considered it an omen.

7. He didn't want to become an animagus. Not really. He didn't really believe he could manage it, didn't understand why he ought to. But he did it anyway, because he was scared of what James and Sirius would say if he didn't. And he never regretted it. Not really.

The years he spent living as a rat were some of the best in his life. (The other best years were the times when he was a marauder, when he had friends, was treated like an equal, like he belonged.)

8. He was relieved when Voldemort disappeared. So relieved, in fact, that he's never been able to explain why he revived the man. Possibly for protection – because he was convinced the ministry would believe Sirius and track him down. But he soon regretted it, despised himself for it.

9. He was upset when Sirius died, although he hid it. Because it was his fault James had died, and his fault, really, that Sirius had too, because if he hadn't revived Voldemort...

Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs...He recalled the order they'd always written it, days after Sirius' death. And he knew he'd be next.

10. He fought it. When his own hand moved towards his throat, he fought it. But he knew it was going to happen, and really it was almost a relief. As much as he didn't want to die, he didn't want to live, either, and wasn't it only fair that he die, like his friends?


	48. Minerva McGonagall

Thanks again for all my reviews. They mean more to me than you know, and I still can't believe I've got this many.

48. Minerva

1. When she was young, she had little regard for rules. Rules, people trying to control you, things to be bent, ignored, broken.

She soon grew out of it, because she disliked chaos far more. But still, when a student bent the lesser rules a little, she wasn't really as annoyed as she acted. Because she remembered what it was like to feel controlled, and she didn't really blame them.

2. She was always a hard worker. Maybe that was one of the reasons her disregard for rules faded – because at Hogwarts she spent so much time working hard, the noise and chaos of other students breaking rules interrupted her.

3. She was determined to get all Os in her O.W.Ls. The two Es she got were always a minor disappointment to her, though she knew it could have been worse. But this was the reason she identified so well with Hermione, why she got her the time-turner, why she helped her as often as possible. It was also why she understood when Hermione admitted her own E was a disappointment.

4. She loved Hogwarts. Loved teaching. Loved watching small, scared eleven year olds arrive, and grow into capable adults. But, after the first seven or so years of teaching, she decided she didn't want children of her own. Partly because they were a lot of effort and work, partly because all her time was devoted into her work.

Maybe, maybe when she realised she was now rather old, she wondered if she'd have been a good mother, if she'd have liked having children. But mostly, she felt she'd made the right decision.

5. She considered herself a capable women, but during the first war she was convinced she would die. Because how could she survive, when people she considered more skilled than herself were dying?

So the moment she heard of Voldemort's return, an unbearable fear settled over her.

6. Lily and James Potter were two of her favourite students, and two people she later liked a great deal. Their death was...she wasn't an emotional women, but she cried over their death. And for a lot of years, she hated Sirius Black – who, incidentally, had been another of her favourites. She regretted her treatment of Peter Pettigrew, and also regretted that, despite being in that group, he wasn't a favourite.

Finding out that Sirius was innocent all along was an immense relief. Because it had been so hard to accept that her judgment had been wrong. The first time she saw him, at Grimmauld Place, she gave him a brief hug, that she would later deny ever happened. His death made her cry, too.

7. Dumbledore's death was the worst, though. She actually cried very little, a few tears on the night of the funeral, but felt so lost. Felt that, without him, there was no chance of them winning. No chance of them surviving. It was only the fact that she refused to give in to Voldemort that stopped her from sinking to the floor and waiting to be killed.

8. And as much as she liked Harry, and as much as she knew Dumbledore had faith in him, and as much as she knew the boy would give a hundred per cent, had friends who would go the distance with him, she found it hard to completely believe that Harry could defeat Voldemort.

Right up until she stood in the hall, and saw Harry and Voldemort opposite each other. Until she saw Harry eyes, with no trace of fear in them. Until she saw that he was no longer a nervous eleven year old, who was just discovering the world and himself. Until she saw both his parents in him, alongside the separate person he was. And then, and only then, did she really believe they were going to be OK.

9. Rebuilding Hogwarts was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. Of course, it wasn't just her who did it, but she felt very alone when helping, because Dumbledore wasn't there, and he should have been. Because so many people had died in the building, and around it, that a part of her felt they should just leave it, broken and empty, because nothing could ever be the same again.

10. She still loves teaching. Loves watching the next generation – the products of the survivors – arrive and learn and grow. She loves the repetition of it. Watching James Potter's grandson fall for a redhead, just as she'd watching him and his son do. Watching Neville's son gain skill and confidence, just like he did, just like Frank did. And the differences, too. Watching how Scorpius Malfoy fought to gain his own, separate identity, and fell for a girl he wasn't supposed to. Watching Luna's sons make all the friends she had struggled for and deserved.

Maybe her love for the school almost died, but it survived, stronger than ever.


	49. Rubeus Hagrid

Taken a little while, but I've been busy. Since I've only got one chapter written after this, and I'm going to be busy for a little while (re-decorating the living room) not sure when the next update will be. I'll try not to make it too long, though. Thanks again for reviewing.

49. Hagrid

1. He didn't honestly realise he was different until he turned eleven. Sure, he noticed that, in comparison to his father he was large. But it never occurred to him that there was anything strange about it. It was one of those things he was so used to he never questioned. Like his mum being gone.

Then his dad sat him down, told him how his mother had been a giant, and how he was always going to be "a little bigger" than his peers. He accepted it, because his dad didn't make a big issue out of it, but he didn't realise just how different he was until they reached the platform, for his first year at Hogwarts. And then he realised just how much "a little bigger" was.

2. Mostly, the other students accepted him. There was a few double-takes, whispers, questions, in the beginning, but after the first time he admitted his parentage, and the girl stumbled backwards, raw fear on her face, he started just shrugging of their questions. It was Dumbledore who put at stop to it, giving a little speech during transfiguration about how no one should be judged on their appearance or background, but on themselves, on their own merit. He made out it applied to everyone – pure-blood wizards, muggleborns, ect, but Hagrid knew it was about him, and was eternally grateful.

3. His father's death was...horrifying. Painful. Devastating. For several weeks he just wondered around, feeling so lost. Because without his dad, the person who'd stood by him, what was he supposed to do? An orphan, with no one in the world. He didn't know what would happen when the summer holidays rolled around – where would he go? Would they let him live on his own? Would he have to go to an orphanage or would they track down his mother? Did he _want_ to meet his mum? Would he just be allowed to stay at Hogwarts over the summer? And then he got Aragog, and it gave him something to focus on, something to care about...

4. Expelled. The word rang around his head, and he knew his mouth was still open, his eyes wide, but he couldn't think of anything, couldn't focus on anything except that one word. And then Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder, and Hagrid found himself looking up at the one person he could depend on.

"It wasn't me." He whispered, and Dumbledore nodded. "What...where am I going to go?" Hagrid asked quietly, and Dumbledore gave him a long, searching look, before asking him to wait outside while he spoke to the headmaster. Next thing he knew, he was trainee gamekeeper.

5. Sure, it wasn't easy, watching his old friends become qualified, or watching children – children, while he was an adult – do the same. And there were some who flaunted it, taunted him. But there were those who treated him with respect, treated him like a friend. Lily Evans, for one, was always nice and sweet to him. James Potter and his group acted like he was one of their friends. Losing Lily and James, being told Sirius had betrayed them, then finding out it was really Peter, it was all really hard on him. But Harry, Harry almost made up for it.

6. When they went to the giants, he was shaking slightly. Not out of fear. No, he wasn't scared.

He was shaking because there was the possibility of his mum being here. Shaking because what would he say if he came across her? Would she even know who he was? Would she care?

And then he was shaking because she was dead, and he'd never get the answers.

7. A brother. A brother? How...But...Why...? And then he shook the shock off, and whispered that he couldn't leave him behind, that he had to look after him. Because while Grawp may be bigger – a lot bigger – Hagrid was older, and older brothers were supposed to look after the younger ones.

8. Voldemort scared him. A little. But he couldn't completely fear him, because he always knew Dumbledore was there, that Dumbledore was better, stronger, smarter...

But then, then Dumbledore was dead.

9. That next year was awful. He was worried for Harry, Ron and Hermione, worried for the students, worried for his friends. Having to leave the school and go into hiding, without knowing what was going on at Hogwarts, what was going on with Harry...

And then he heard Voldemort's voice, carrying over the mountains, and knew that it was all happening, that it was all ending. Even though they hadn't even started yet, a weight lifted from his shoulders, such was his faith in Harry, the school, the order.

But seeing Harry...seeing him laid on the ground, still and lifeless...Hearing Narcissa Malfoy's words...Harry couldn't be dead. And he remembered, remembered seeing James' body, laid on the floor by the front door, painfully obviously attempting to protect his wife and child, and then Lily's body, looking so pale and somehow reminding him of the sweet eleven year old who'd help put out an accidental fire at his cabin. And he remembered rescuing Harry, an orphan, from the wreckage, and remembered watching him grow up, watching him through the last six or so years of his life, and he just couldn't be – he just couldn't...

And then he wasn't, and somehow everything seemed right again, even though they hadn't yet won, because Harry wasn't dead, Lily and James' son wasn't dead.

10. Nowadays, there's some who still hint – or just say outright – that he isn't a good enough teacher. But it doesn't bother him, because he still has the loyalty of many. So even if one student will sneer that the class is pathetic, or if many don't return to him for their N.E.W.Ts, the hurt was dulled by the fact that James Potter II and his friends all arrived for the N.E.W.T class, or when he, or Al or Lily or Rose or Hugo, will visit his cabin, forcing down the food he knows isn't exactly Hogwarts standards, talking to him until he doesn't feel like a failure anymore.

He may have lost his mother. He may have lost his father. His brother may not exactly be normal. But Hagrid still has family, and lots of it.


	50. Gellert Grindlewald

Well this is here because I wrote the next one yesterday - Ariana - but after that I've got nothing. Haven't even decided who it'll be. Yet. Albus centric, I know, but I didn't really know what to write for this one. And I like to think he returned the feelings, so...

50. Grindlewald

1. It took him three years to be the smartest in his year group. Three years of hard work, of reading thousands of books, of isolating himself from his fellow students in order to concentrate properly. Because he wanted to be the best. And he got there, after those three years. He just never anticipated how lonely it would make him.

2. He went to Bathilda's house to try and get his thoughts together, to get away from everything that he felt he had to do. He'd been told it was just a quiet village, and had never expected to meet someone like Albus. Someone who was equal to him. Someone who understood him, and who he understood. He never expected to find a bond like that anywhere, ever, never mind in a sleepy little village.

3. He still doesn't know just how they started planning to find the hallows, to rule the world. Doesn't know whose idea it was, or how it went from a mild, arrogant curiosity to a serious plan, a serious obsession. But he knows he really believed they could do it, together, and when he was forced to go it alone, he didn't know if he could. For a while, he felt like nothing without Albus...and that was when he realised just how deep the bond ran. For him, at least.

4. He'll always feel guilty over Ariana. He doesn't know who killed her, but knows it's his fault. And, in one sense, he hopes it was him, because if it was Albus, it would destroy him, and Gellert could never let Albus be destroyed.

He had to leave, though. Couldn't even stay for the funeral. Because he was sure that Albus would hate him, sure that he'd look at Albus and see pain and anger and hate in those eyes, and he couldn't. He just couldn't. Because he loved him. He really did, and it terrified him.

But he always regretted that he never got to find out if Albus felt the same...Never got to find out if they could have had something, have been together.

5. It wasn't easy getting the Elder wand, but he was determined. And he won it, and would never forget just how it felt when the wand settled into his hand, warmth leaping up his wrist, arm, shoulder, over his neck and chest. He felt powerful, complete. And for a brief moment, he thought that he didn't really need the others, that he could manage with just this wand, this powerful, unbeatable, perfect wand.

6. Maybe a part of him thought that if he could return to Albus, powerful and in control and with everything they'd dreamed of, he could get forgiveness. Maybe he threw himself into his crusade in order to try and forget about him. Either way, he was determined...

But he hadn't known just how many people would die. Just how many sacrifices he'd have to make for the greater good. And even though he told himself, over and over, that it was for the greater good, that it was all worth it, a part of him struggled to accept all the lives ended because of him.

7. They said he was afraid to try and take over England because of Albus. That he was scared of Albus. Maybe he was, a little. But more, he was ashamed.

And when Albus and he faced off, when he thought it would be kill or die, he knew he'd have to die. He still loved him. And Albus still meant far too much to him to kill. So he fought, hoping to just take his wand, half thinking he could maybe capture Albus, maybe talk to him, convince him, or at least just keep him safe...but then he was reluctant to hurt him, and he lost. And he had to, just had to tell him that he wouldn't have killed him, because he could have Albus thinking so little of him. He just couldn't.

8. He grew rather obsessed while in prison. Over Voldemort, over watching his campaign, waiting for him to fall. But over Albus, more. He followed his career the best he could, followed his life. And regretted. Regretted Ariana. Regretted all the other innocent people he'd killed. Regretted losing the only friend he had. And yes, he regretted failing. Because he had wanted to rule the world, and it was undeniable.

When he found out Albus was dead...really dead, really gone...he couldn't believe it. Couldn't understand. And hated himself for being alive when Albus wasn't.

9. He worried about his aunt, too. Because she knew things about him and Albus, and he worried that someone who try to use her for information. He worried about how she'd take it, that he was a dark wizard. But after a while, he stopped worrying, stopped regretting, and just...was empty. Nothing.

10. He knew Voldemort would come after him. Sooner or later. Everyone wanted the unbeatable wand, didn't they? But he also knew that he wasn't going to tell him where it was. Wasn't going to help. When the man – creature – appeared before him, he was ready.

So he lied, and then he prepared for his death, and as Voldemort raised his wand, as the green sped towards him, he thought of Albus.

_I'd didn't betray you, Albus. Not this time._


	51. Ariana Dumbledore

Well this is one of the hardest so far, because I'm not sure about Ariana's mind after what happened to her. So for the sake of this chapter, we'll assume she had close to normal thoughts, normal mental ability, at least some of the time. Whatever normal means. Although once I got into it, it was easier than I expected.

51. Ariana

1. Aberforth was her favourite, from a very young age. It's not really fair to have favourites in families, she knows, but she was too young to really comprehend that when she decided Aberforth was her favourite. And, really, it was because Albus never had time for her. He was always reading, learning, far too busy to bother with the little sister who wanted to talk about nonsense. But Aberforth would listen, would read her stories – Albus was never interested in reading to her, despite how often he had a book in front of him – and Aberforth would talk to her. Thus, he was her favourite, and by the time she realised that she shouldn't really have favourites, it was too late. Besides, it's not like Albus ever knew.

2. She was a daddy's girl. From the very beginning, she could wrap him around her little finger, get her own way with just a wide-eyed look, in a way that never worked on her mum. He couldn't refuse her anything, and he'd read her the stories Aberforth struggled with, and he'd tell the both of them stories, too, about magical places and creatures, as well as tales of his childhood. It bothered her a little that it was always Aberforth and her who listened to their father's stories, while Albus was busy with his own things.

3. Albus fascinated her, though. She liked to watch people – just sit and watch them from the window, or the garden, trying to guess their names, and making up possible jobs, families, lives for them. But Albus interested her the most, because she knew him, he was her big brother, and yet so distant from her a lot of the time. So she'd sit and watch him – often covertly – and instead of creating an imaginary name or family for him – she knew his name, and was his family, after all – she'd think about his future. How he was going to end up the minister for magic. How he was going to marry a pretty girl, and have lots of smart little kids.

(It would have saddened her that none of this became true, had she lived to see it.)

4. She had a vivid, boundless imagination. It was one of the reasons her people-watching game was so fun. One of the reasons she could sit and listen to stories for hours. She had countless imaginary pets – dogs and cats and frogs and bats and owls and elephants and tigers and lions. Once, Aberforth told her she ought to be a writer, and she was rather taken with the idea.

5. She didn't mean to. Really, she never meant it. It just happened, you know, an accident. And she didn't know they were there, those muggles. If she had, she probably wouldn't have been in the garden at all.

She never did remember what happened next. Only that she'd had an accident, and the muggle boys had come into the garden and – and – but, no. When she tried to remember...it was just a blurry black space, and something told her she shouldn't remember. But from the next moment she remembers – laying on the sofa, shaking with a blanket around her – she was different. She knew it, too.

6. They didn't tell her what her father had done. For a week, maybe more – she wasn't all that good with time anymore – they didn't tell her anything. Dad just wasn't home, and mum was crying, and Albus spent all his time in his room, and Aberforth spent all his time with her.

But finally, her mother sat her down and told her that daddy had to go away for while, maybe for a long while. And they wouldn't tell her where, or why, or anything.

7. Then they were moving house. She hated that. She liked their house, liked her room. And if they moved, how would dad know where they were? What if he tried to come home, and they were gone? What then?

She didn't like the new place, either, and it was a difficult few months for everyone. If not for Aberforth and his goats, she probably never would have settled into her new home.

8. Like her experience with the muggle boys, she doesn't remember her mother's death. In truth, she rarely remembered her "episodes" and this one was also just a blur. But she was aware of her mum, laying on the ground, strangely pale, strangely still.

She didn't even realise she was looking at death until Aberforth came in. It was the expression on his face that made it click into place.

9. She knew she was a secret from the neighbours. Didn't understand why – Aberforth once told her that it was too keep her safe – but she knew that she was hidden upstairs whenever someone came to the door, knew that her mum didn't leave the house because Ariana couldn't be left alone. But, like no one had told her exactly what happened to her in the garden, like no one had told her exactly what happened to her father, or to her mother, no one explained this to her, which only added to her frustration.

10. She didn't understand why they were fighting. Aberforth, and Albus, and his friend. But she was scared, scared they were going to hurt each other, and she just wanted to help, make them stop before someone got hurt, because magic, magic was scary, magic was bad.

And she didn't really know what she was doing, wasn't really aware, and then – and then she knew nothing at all.


	52. Aberforth Dumbledore

52. Aberforth

1. When he was really, really little, he used to follow Albus around. Everywhere. He'd trail after him, room to room, sit and watch him, or ask him what he was doing. He'd listen to him for hours, and only sometimes try to get Albus to do things he wanted. Because even though there was only a few years between them, Albus always seemed so much older, and Aberforth looked up to him.

2. Then Ariana was born, and suddenly Albus wasn't so interesting after all. Instead of watching Albus think, or read, or listening to him talk about things Aberforth didn't understand nor care to, he would watch Ariana blink and grab his hands, listen to her gurgle. Instead of trying to get Albus to play games with him, he'd try and teach Ariana to say his name. And she'd always look up at him with such wonder, such love, and even from a young age he was the one who could calm her when she cried. He was devoted to her, from the moment he set eyes on her.

3. He should have been in the garden with her. That's all he could think when he draped a blanket over his little sister's shoulders, his mother crying softly and his father getting angrier and angrier, his own eyes damp.

If he'd been in the garden with her, it wouldn't have happened. He'd have been able to protect her. Big brothers protected little sisters. But he'd failed. He hadn't been there, hadn't protected her, and now she...she was...

4. And then dad was storming out, and mum was screaming, screaming at him not to go, that he couldn't leave him, that they needed him, they _needed_ him. And then dad looked back, told her that he was sorry, but he had to. Then he hugged them, all of them, and walked out. Mum sank to her knees, crying. And dad never came home.

He can pinpoint that as the exact moment his whole life changed forever.

5. No one told him what his father had done. Mum told Albus, but they told him and Ariana that dad just wasn't coming home. One day she left them, was gone for hours, and when she came home she had obviously been crying. She told them to go pack their things, that they were moving house. He kinda guessed what his dad had done, though, and led Ariana upstairs, then sat on the steps to listen to his mother and brother. His mum was crying again, and he listened as she told Albus that dad was in Azkaban, that he was going to be there forever. That they were moving because the neighbours were saying things. That they would have to keep Ariana a secret, otherwise they'd take her away. That dad had given his freedom to protect her.

For the first time since Ariana had been attacked, Aberforth cried, silent tears falling for a minute or two before he went back to his sister.

6. Ariana was so...so different...so distant, and it broke him. His little sister, so damaged. He was so lost, so helpless.

The only real time he saw the old Ariana in her was when they were with the goats. Just the two of them, sat outside with the animals, or feeding them. She would light up, and it was because of that that he loved goats.

7. They were managing. Struggling sometimes, yes, but managing. He could calm her – they still had that bond – and mum could control her. Even if he did hate Albus just a little bit for his indifference to their sister, Aberforth was dealing with the life they had. But then he walked into the house to see Ariana stood there, staring at the floor in confusion. And...and mum was on the floor...and mum was dead...

And that was worse, because what would they do without their mum?

8. He knew what Albus and Gellert were planning. He heard them, and every once in a while he'd – accidently, of course – find a letter that one had written to the other. He was smart – not Albus' standards, of course – but smart enough to piece it together. And he was so angry, because Albus wasn't even thinking of Ariana. Like always, he was ignoring her, like always, he considered her unimportant, and _how could he?_

And then when he was shouting, because it was just too far. For once in his life, Albus had to think of Ariana. It was time, he heard himself yelling, that Albus learned to care about his sister. And then spells were flying at him, and he was even angrier – and then he saw Ariana, and she was involved – she couldn't help it – she didn't even know what she was doing – and even as he turned to her, she was falling, falling, so slowly, to the floor, and crumpling and...and she was dead, she was _dead..._Ariana? And he wasn't even aware of Gellert running away, of Albus crouching beside him – wasn't even sure how he'd ended up crouched beside her, never mind Albus – all he was aware of was her...

At the funeral, he couldn't help it. He didn't know who had cast the fatal spell, but as far as he was concerned, Albus and Gellert were both to blame. As was he, because once again he'd failed to protected her. And this time, this time she was dead.

And so because Gellert wasn't around, and he couldn't hit himself, he found his fist connecting with Albus' face, felt his nose break, and felt the satisfaction that came with it.

9. Of all the death's he'd experienced – including his father's, who'd died in prison – Albus' was the easiest to accept. Sure, it was painful that his last relative had died, sure he mourned...but Albus and he had grown so far apart and there was so much bitterness there, that Albus' death affected him a lot less than it ought to have.

10. He wasn't going to join the fight. He wasn't going to risk his life over something like that, like Albus had. But then he looked at Ariana's portrait, and she simply smiled at him, and nodded. And he'd never been able to argue with her.


	53. Lee Jordan

Well I don't think anyone requested this, but I just decided to give it a shot, and it was easier than I thought. Let me know if you liked it...

53. Lee

1. When he was little, he was fascinated by the stories of Voldemort, and Death Eaters, and all the murders and violence that he'd actually been alive for, but was unable to remember.

His parents were, understandably, reluctant to tell him the stories, but he managed to talk them into it often enough. And while, obviously, he didn't _like_ Voldemort, he was fascinated. Had he, though, known that the Dark Wizard was not, in fact, dead, he'd have been a lot less fascinated, and a lot more terrified.

2. He used to, as a result of this fascination, play at Death Eaters and Good Guys. On his own, with action figures, and occasionally with the muggle kids nearby, although of course pretending that magic was all a figment of his imagination. Sometimes he was one of the Good Guys, sometimes one of the Death Eaters. During one, maybe two, games, he actually played the role of Lord Voldemort himself.

This, of course, is something he's never, ever admitted, and probably never will.

3. His sorting was something he worried about for a long while. Because where would he go? He wasn't smart enough for Ravenclaw...he didn't want Slytherin...he hadn't done anything brave...so that left Hufflepuff, but was he loyal enough? Really?

The hat took a whole of four seconds to sort him.

4. Fred and George were his best friends, from the moment he met them. And they were the best friends he'd ever had, really. Loyal and funny and there when you needed them.

But they were so obviously a twosome, so obviously shared the same thoughts and feelings and hopes and dreams, that sometimes, being with them while they finished each other's sentences and understood each other without saying a word, he felt a little left out, a little like an outsider.

5. He was a little jealous of Harry for getting into the Triwizard Tournament. He and the twins had brainstormed for hours, and still hadn't managed it, and this kid had somehow done so. _And_ he wouldn't even tell them how, pretending he hadn't done it. Well of course he had – even Ron didn't believe him, and that just proved it, despite Fred and George half believing him.

His slight jealousy lasted right up until he saw the dragons. His belief that Harry had snuck his name in the cup lasted right up until he exited the maze, clutching Cedric Diggory's dead body.

Then, it was somehow so much easier to believe someone else had set the kid up.

6. The first thing he felt, when George told him Voldemort was back, was excitement. Because this meant he got a chance to see, first hand, what war was like. It meant he got to live out all his childhood games, play the hero.

Although he did, obviously, realise that things were a lot more serious than that, the excitement only faded the first time Fred, in a undertone, murmured that the unsucpisious death in the Prophet was actually due to Voldemort.

Somehow, he seemed to have forgotten that people died at war.

7. The DA was fun, though. Never serious. Just fun. Exciting. Never something he thought he'd have to use.

So why on earth did Ron and Harry and their friends – and little Ginny Weasley – go running off to the ministry, thinking they could fight Death Eaters? He didn't understand it.

He asked Ginny, once, and she looked at him, extremly unimpressed, and said only, "Did you just call me a little kid, Lee?" And then he realised how he'd phrased the question, and got away from her sharpish, because little Ginny Weasley - who wasn't so little than she used to be - looked very close to hexing him.

8. And suddenly things were getting more and more serious, and more and more people were dying, and things were a lot scarier than his childhood games had ever been. And then suddenly Voldemort was out in the open, and Harry and Ron and Hermione were on the run, and he was in hiding and trying his hardest to keep up everyone's spirits with his radio program. And then...and then Voldemort was heading to Hogwarts, and this wasn't even _nearly_ a game anymore.

9. He was fighting for all he was worth. Sending curses, jinxes, and blocking them, too. Trying to help others, and being helped himself. The students were pulling together in a way they'd never done before, and he thought it was quite nice, actually, to know all these people you went to school with – some that you didn't even know – were willing to watch your back. And then they had a break – a much needed break – and, more relaxed, he headed down to the Great Hall, half worried about what would wait him, but not overly tense.

And then he saw George. And he felt his stomach drop, because for George to look like that, then something was wrong. Something was very, very...And his gaze travelled down and...

He choked out Fred's name, horse and raspy. Fred...couldn't be...It just wasn't possible...

But he was. So Lee somehow managed to stumble out of the hall, because he couldn't stay there and look at that. It was Alicia who found him, sat against a wall, his knees to his chest and his head resting on them, silent tears running down his face. It was Alicia who hugged him, without speaking, and cried with him. And when Voldemort spoke again – Harry wasn't dead, too, he wouldn't believe it – and when he whispered that he didn't think he _could_ fight anymore, it was she who took his hand and told him they had to fight, for Fred.

10. He'd never seen Alicia as more than a friend. She and George went to the Yule Ball, but they were never anything more than friends afterwards. He never even considered...

But she was the one who helped him through those next few days, weeks, months. The one who'd hold him while he tried to hide his tears. And she chose him to break on, her tears soaking the front of his robes more than once. She held his hand through Fred's funeral. They became close, closer than they'd ever been. And then, somehow, he was in love with her.

Even better, she loved him back. And on their wedding day, he told the guests that while George was his best man, his best friend, if not for Fred he and Alicia wouldn't be together. And George smiled proudly, and Lee was certain Fred would have done the same.


	54. Alicia Spinnet

54. Alicia

1. She was really, really nervous about going to Hogwarts. Maybe that was why, when her parents sat her down and told her a very brief version of the first war, she wasn't all that interested. She knew they were telling her because she'd hear about it at school, and they wanted her to actually know what people were talking about, but it didn't faze her at all. It was all over, something that wasn't even real to her.

How could she know what a big part of her life Voldemort would turn out to be?

2. She cried on the train, that first journey. Found a compartment on her own, and sat crying. She missed her family already. Was terrified of going to a brand-new place, where she didn't know anyone. Scared and lonely and sad, and...

And then a boy entered the compartment, froze and looked uncomfortable. After asking if she was OK – to which she nodded frantically and brushed away the tears – he introduced himself, sat with her, and distracted her for the whole journey.

At Hogwarts, she quickly made friends with Angelina, but Lee Jordan would always remain her first friend, a person she knew she could count on. And she was thrilled that Angelina and Lee were both friends with the twins – it allowed them to form their own little group. But still, she never had any more-than-friends feelings for Lee.

3. Getting onto the Quidditch team was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. She was thrilled, proud, smiling for weeks. Even now, after everything that's happened since then, she still remembers just how happy she was then.

4. She could never really explain why she went to the Yule Ball with George. Her friendship with the twins was, like with Lee, completely platonic. But they were idly talking during a boring Charms lesson, and he suggested they go together. She was surprised, because she'd assumed there would be many girls wanting to go with George Weasley. And when she half-jokingly said so, he grinned and said he'd rather go with a friend. So she found herself saying yes.

Later, though, when he walked her back to the common room and hugged her goodbye, she was a little disappointed. Not because nothing had happened with George, but that she hadn't given herself the chance for something to happen with someone else. Seeing all the couples made her feel like she'd wasted an opportunity.

5. Her first thought – not that she'll ever admit it to him – when Harry said Voldemort was back, that he must be confused. Must have hit his head, or something...

But then he stuck to his story, and she remembered how someone had put his name in the Goblet of Fire – it took her until only the first task to believe him there – and found herself thinking that who else would have done that? And surely, surely Dumbledore would know if it was all a mistake? And so that left only one terrifying option...

6. She was one of the few who took the D.A seriously. Maybe a part of her had known that she'd be there when the war finally ended; or maybe she was just being overly-cautious. She never had been good a divination, after all. But she took it all extremely seriously, and, in the end, it paid off.

7. When she heard what had happened to Katie, with the cursed necklace, her blood ran cold. She actually felt it. Katie was one of her best friends – Quidditch did that to you – and she was terrified she was going to die. And who would curse Katie? Why?

She and Angelina rushed to St. Mungo's, and, even though Katie turned out to be fine, it was then that she realised that she could lose friends in this war.

8. Potterwatch kept her spirits up during that last year. Because it was so hard to not sink into self-pity and terror, and the radio show was one of the only things that still made her smile. Plus, it was nice to hear Lee's voice, and the twins', just to know they were OK.

But she knew – she could feel it – that the war would be ending soon, one way or another. She practiced magic daily, determined that she wouldn't die fighting – she'd win, she'd live, she'd see the future, the Voldemort-free future. Somehow, she never lost that belief, even if it did fade a little sometimes.

9. Arriving at Hogwarts was very bittersweet. It was, of course, nice to be back there. But everyone knew what was going to happen – everyone knew that they might not make it out of the castle grounds alive.

She managed to say goodbye to Angelina, Katie, the twins, and several other friends – obviously pretending that they'd all make it alive, and they didn't mean goodbye forever – but she didn't manage to get a minute with Lee, and that was something that haunted her throughout that battle, because what if...

But it was Fred, Fred who was cold and lifeless, surrounded by his broken family. Fred, who was dead – and it was so much worse because she'd never believed that he or George would...She scanned the bodies, the crowd – couldn't look at him anymore just couldn't – and picked out her friends. Except Lee. So she turned, left the hall, feeling strangely cold herself. And when she saw him, slumped against the wall, her first thought was that he, too, was dead, waiting to be taken into the hall...And the horror, the grief...and then the blinding, dizzying relief when she realised...And she felt stronger with him, and still didn't say goodbye, not believing that he'd be killed.

10. It took her only months to realise she loved him. A few months of holding him while he sobbed, or of clinging to him, soaking his robes with her own tears. A few months of using his strength to rebuild her own, of giving him support. She held his hand throughout the funerals – God, all the funerals – both to give and take support. And then she realised she loved him, and thought, at first, that he'd despise her for it – he'd only recently lost one of his best friends, and they were all still picking up the pieces, and how could she even think of it, even imagine being happy, being with him...But he loved her too, and somehow she felt healed, knowing that he was there.


	55. Oliver Wood

The last one is because of my latest Jigsaw Piece, if anyone was wondering. I haven't even decided who to write next, so it may be a few days before I update again. Who knew it'd get harder to write these things?

Anyone who reads _The Sorting_, I'll get that updated at some point, soon, but I'm blocked there right now, so it might be a couple of days.

55. Oliver

1. The first time he sat on his first toy broomstick, and felt his feet leave the ground, he cried. He was terrified. It took a whole three weeks before his dad could persuade him to get back on it, and another four days after that before he'd lift his tiptoes up.

And then, somewhere between the ages of three and five, he started to like the feeling of hovering in the air.

2. He was eight when he first sat on a real broomstick. He rose only three feet into the air, moved only four or five feet forward, but he was hooked.

He was one of the few first years to try sneaking a broomstick into Hogwarts. (He failed.) He was one of the first years to try out for the Quidditch team. (The captain said he was good, for an eleven year old, but not good enough.)

3. The fact that they hadn't managed to win the cup was something that tormented him. He thought they had a strong team, but still they didn't manage it. And then they got Harry, and he thought...

By his last year he was panicking. His last chance to win. If he left Hogwarts without ever captaining the team to victory, he might just die of disappointment. He had to win, had to.

So he ignored his teams complaints, ignored it when his own muscles screamed in protest. They were going to win, he'd make sure of it.

So losing that first match...he felt all hope was lost. Felt that his life was over. And for a couple of days, he hated Harry a little bit. Because they should have won.

4. Words can't describe how amazing it was to finally win. To finally hold that cup, to hear the cheers of his team –_ his team _– the roaring of the crowd. They'd done it, they'd won, and he felt like he'd never stop smiling.

It was months before he actually did stop smiling almost consistently. But even now, all these years later, he still smiles occasionally when he remembers that victory. It is one of the best moments of his life, right up there with his wedding day and his kids' births. Not, of course, that he'd ever admit that to Katie; something tells him she wouldn't be all that pleased.

5. Leaving Hogwarts was terrifying. While his grades weren't bad, he'd put too much time into Quidditch for them to be better than average. So while all he wanted to do – all he thought he _could_ do – was play Quidditch, he was faced with the very real possibility that he'd have to take a "real" job, a low-paying, soul-destroying, kind of job.

It took weeks and weeks and weeks to finally get a place – a reserve was the best he could have hoped for, being just out of school – weeks and weeks of nerves and despair. It was so thrilling to be able to see people he knew at the World Cup and tell them he was on a real team. He didn't, of course, mention that he'd been on that team for a total of three days.

6. Even though he'd known Harry, liked Harry, when the Daily Prophet began making out that he was slowly losing it, he believed it a little. Because everyone knew what had happened to Harry as a baby, and something – something weird, something bad – must have occurred as a result of it, right? So if Harry's grip on reality was slipping a little, well, it wasn't exactly _un_expected, was it?

7. Still, when he read Harry's Quibbler interview, he believed it. Because this was Harry, the kid he'd known for years, his star seeker. And the Harry he knew wasn't stupid, wasn't an attention-seeking liar.

Insanity was one thing, but lies? Nah, not Harry.

8. And then, suddenly, the world had deteriorated. Dumbledore was dead, and Voldemort was in power. Death Eaters were everywhere, muggle-borns were fleeing, Harry was on the run with a bounty on his head, and no one was safe, no one could be trusted. For him, it had happened so quickly, so out of the blue, and he didn't know how to handle it. Death. Destruction. Despair. He wasn't used to them.

And then it was all happening, at Hogwarts of all places. He thought, at first, like the others, that they'd be just fighting the Death Eaters, taking the school back.

And then Voldemort was on his way? They were fighting You-Know-Who himself? He wasn't prepared for this, he couldn't...

Only, he didn't have a choice, did he?

9. He and Katie, they'd known each other for years. Since her first year. So why, suddenly, was she stood at this memorial, looking so grown up, so...pretty? Why was she no longer that kid with all the Quidditch talent, or the teenager who'd fought beside him, her voice shaking and her hand trembling as she cast jinxes and curses?

And why on earth was he slightly nervous as he walked over to her? Why was he a little edgy when started talking to her? And why was it she who had to suggest they meet up for a drink, because he couldn't work up the nerve?

10. His granddad's name was Humphrey. It was some kind of emotional blackmail on his father's part that caused Oliver to name his son it, too. Katie was adamant they wouldn't, but they'd already agreed he could name this one, because she'd named their daughter. And so, with a large amount of pressure from his father, he named his first-born son "Humphrey".

Unsurprisingly, Humphrey goes by the name Wood. Even he and Katie call him it. Also unsurprisingly, his son is planning to change his first name the second he's of age.

Still, Oliver reasons, it could be worse. There are names that are worse than his. (Somehow, though, he never can think of any when he tries to tell his son this.)


	56. Petunia Evans Dursley

Lily/Harry centric, but it's just the way it came out. Not my best, I know, but you've got to be nice because it's my birthday tomorrow. God, seventeen. I'm not grown up enough to be seventeen. That's far too close to being an adult.

56. Petunia

1. When her mother first sat her down and explained she was going to have a new baby, Petunia thought that she meant they were replacing her. For a few minutes, she believed they'd throw her away, like a discarded toy, until her mother added that Petunia would be the big sister, and be very important.

She liked to feel important.

2. She'd wanted a brother. But a sister was OK, and she and Lily were close from the outset. She was protective; Lily hung on her every word.

So when her sister began to act...strange, when she started to do things that she shouldn't be able to, Petunia was terrified. Because not only was this something she couldn't protect Lily from, it was the only thing Lily didn't listen to her about. It already felt as though she was losing her a little bit.

3. Being only young at the time, she'd forgotten about her initial fear and then excitement over having a baby sibling, and forgotten about her want for a brother. But she could never forget how close she and Lily had been.

That was why, after that strange boy told Lily all those things, and that letter came, and the person with it – she was sent upstairs, but Lily wasn't, and without Lily she didn't have the nerve to sit on the stairs and listen, lest she be caught – and Lily started talking about magic, Petunia became determined to go to Hogwarts with Lily. To protect her, yes. But also because she didn't want them to grow apart. And because _she_ wanted magic. She wanted to be able to do all those things, and if Lily could, why not her?

She cried when she got the Headmaster's reply.

4. It was ironic, really, that after she had been so scared Lily's magic, and her school, would drive them apart, it was she who pushed Lily away, who forced a space between them, bitter, jealous, and afraid of what her sister could do. But she couldn't seem to remain close to her sister in the holidays, couldn't bring herself to write a letter and send it with an _owl_, despite Lily's frequent notes. And somehow, somewhere along the way, Lily's efforts seemed to dim, her notes become less recurrent, her attempts as conversation less animated, and then Lily stopped trying all together.

On her wedding day, Lily came, and brought the wizard. James, his name was. And at the reception he pulled her aside, told her that she was hurting Lily so much with her coldness, her distance. Told her that they were all in danger, and asked how she'd feel if Lily was – he couldn't say the word, and that showed her how much he loved Lily – if something happened to Lily, and they'd never made up.

To which Petunia didn't reply, but pulled herself away from him.

5. She thought, many times, of her sister. Thought about writing. Or visiting. When Lily wrote a letter to tell her of Harry's birth, enclosed a photo, she replied and enclosed one of Dudley. But she declined Lily's offer of a meeting, knowing how much it would hurt her even as she did so.

So when she found her nephew on her doorstep, with a letter in vaguely familiar writing and detailing her sister's death, she felt her heart break a little. Lily was dead, and they never had made up.

It was easier to pretend she hated her sister, easier to neglect her soon. Because when, late at night, she held Harry and cried, the pain was too much, too raw, for her to let herself feel again.

6. She didn't want Harry to go to that school, but she liked it when he was away. She could pretend, then, that it was just she, her husband and her son. No orphaned nephew, no magic.

But he got into so much danger there, and despite herself she cared a little. She'd watched the boy grow up, hadn't she? Heard him cry over nightmares, and sent him back to his cupboard when he came to her for comfort. She felt guilty when he took to comforting himself after bad dreams, when he withdrew from the family he'd desperately tried to fit into for his first few years.

And then Voldemort was back, and...and...

7. She hated being in hiding. She didn't want to die, but hiding, with wizards, acknowledging the world she'd tried so hard to deny, was difficult. And she'd come so close, right before her departure, to speaking to Harry. To apologising, to telling him to be safe, to telling him that Lily would have been so proud...But instead she fled, because she couldn't say all those things. Just couldn't.

8. When they told her that it was over, that everyone was safe, that Harry had lived, Dudley looked so pleased, so proud. Vernon was indifferent, of course, and she pretended to feel the same. But the relief...And she should have, then, insisted on seeing him, speaking to him.

Instead, she went home. Instead, they acted normally. Instead they didn't speak of Harry, of his world.

9. Harry invited her to his wedding. She declined her note cold and brief. But still, Harry sent her letters, when he had his own children. Just brief notes, really. _Just to let you know, I have a son. His name is James._ She didn't reply. _Just thought I'd write, tell you I have another son, now. Albus, we've named him. _Again, she didn't reply. _I have a daughter this time. Her name is Lily._

On that one, she almost cried. She still didn't reply, but she put the final letter with the others, hidden in a drawer with his wedding invite. She couldn't have explained why.

10. When Dudley had his first child, she was terrified. What if...? But no, none of his kids were magical. They were safe. Because magic was bad, and she knew it. Magic killed, or came close. Magic tore families apart. Magic _changed_ people.

Her grandchildren weren't going to go through that.


	57. Katie Bell

Well this might not flow all that well, since I wrote a bit one day, then the next bit the next day, then finished it today. Writer's block. Don't you hate it?

Thanks to everyone who went and read my latest one shot, based on Petunia's 10 Little Things.

57. Katie

1. She never liked the stories of the war, never knew why others did. What was fascinating about death and pain and fear and destruction? What was fun, exciting, interesting, about it? No, she'd rather act like it didn't happen, forget it. Ignore that feeling of doubt whenever she was told Voldemort was dead.

2. She was determined to get on the Quidditch team before she'd even arrived at Hogwarts. And although it may have taken a few years, she managed it. It was the one thing she considered herself good at, the only thing that could make her happy, even when she was training in the rain, and cold, and wind, aching and tired. The only thing that could make her put in so many hours _of_ aching and exhaustion in the rain and cold and wind.

But, even though Angelina and Harry were good captains, it was never the same without Wood. (And yes, she was a little disappointed she never got to be captain herself.)

3. She didn't want to be in the Triwizard Tournament. Sure, the prize money and the glory would be amazing. But it was dangerous, and was bound to be difficult. And she didn't think she could manage it. No, it would be more fun to sit in the stands, to watch and cheer on their champion...

So if she couldn't have managed it, how could Harry? He was still a kid, wouldn't have learned nearly enough and...And was terrified. Shock was on his face when his name was read out, raw fear when he faced the dragons.

She never believed he'd put his own name in.

4. Cedric was dead. Dead. They were all saying it, yelling it, sobbing it. Some people were screaming. She knew Cedric. Had spoke to him. He'd apologised when he'd beat them that time, said it wasn't fair. And he was dead?

She'd never known anyone who'd died before.

5. It was no great surprise to her when Voldemort finally revealed himself, when the Ministry was forced to admit he was really back. Well of course he was. Why would a fifteen year old boy just make it up? Why would Harry, someone she'd known since he was a short eleven year old, suddenly lose his mind? Why would he willingly slice his hand open unless it was true – and while he may have thought his "lines" were a secret, he wasn't the only one subjected to such punishment, and it wasn't difficult to connect the dots. Or to see the marks.

6. It was her final year, and she was terrified about what would happen to her when she left. When she wasn't protected.

How was she to know that even Hogwarts wasn't completely safe? She didn't remember being given the necklace, arguing with Leanne, or touching the cursed pearls. But she remembered blinding pain. Remembered screaming, in her head. Remembered waking up in St. Mungo's believing herself close to death. And for several months after, she'd wake up in the night, either screaming or with screams caught in her throat, feeling some kind of phantom pain. And the fact that it happened at Hogwarts - well, not really, but near enough - was the thing that scared her the most.

7. God, it was terrifying. He was really there, not hiding but overt, and Dumbledore was dead, Harry on the run, and no one seemed to know what to do. And the prophet was full of lies, and she didn't know who she could trust, and people were dying, and nowhere, _nowhere_ was safe.

She was practically still a kid, and she couldn't handle it. She thought about leaving the country, about taking the people she cared for and running.

But when the message came, she didn't hesitate about going to Hogwarts.

8. She wasn't scared. Minutes from death, possibly. Surrounded by the dead, the dying, and the dark. But there wasn't time for fear. She was busy remembering every curse and counter curse, busy being alert, because a lapse in attention could mean the end, for her or someone else. No, there was no time for fear – or even grief, though she saw the bodies of people she knew.

But then, when their break came, when their period of safety arrived, she found herself shaking uncontrollably. There was nothing to block the fear now, and it hit her in waves, until she had to sit heavily on a step, lower her head between her knees, and breathe deeply to avoid throwing up. And then she had to go to the hall – somehow she knew they'd be there – and see what could be done, what had to be done, to help the injured. And to see – though she didn't want to – who was beyond help.

Fred. Fred was beyond help, and the bile rose in the throat at the sight of it.

9. Memorial ceremonies weren't meant to be fun. They were meant to be sad, profound. And that's what this was.

Far too many names graced the memorial plaque. Far too many families had holes in them. Far too many people here were crying.

She felt so low, and so when Oliver came over, stammering and uncertain, she couldn't not take the chance. Couldn't not spend some time with him. Couldn't not give herself a chance at happiness.

Months, months later, when he slid a ring onto her finger, she felt whole again.

10. Oliver's lucky she loves his so much. Otherwise she very well may have cursed him over their Humphrey's name.

But, all in all, she knows she's one of the fortunate ones. She survived, she found love, she has perfect children. And when she compares that to the life she could have had – or rather, the lack of life she could have had – her son's awful name pales in contrast.

In short, despite everything, she's happy.


	58. Dudley Dursley

Finally. These are really getting harder, I might have to end it soon. Anyway, for anyone who read my "Again" series, Darren's Wings has written a one-shot based on the idea, for Bellatrix Lestrange. It's called Down The Aisle Again and is in my favourites if anyone wants to check it out.

58. Dudley

1. He doesn't remember, of course, but his first reaction, upon seeing Harry, was intense jealousy. Because this was a new baby, and even in his infantile state Dudley knew he would get less attention now. And while his didn't understand anything, he was overcome with resentment.

Somehow, the resentment never seemed to fade, despite how little attention Harry got.

2. Why was he a bully? Maybe because he knew he could get away with it, parent-wise. Maybe as a way to secure more attention. Maybe it was just innate, something he couldn't help. But even in nursery, he'd take toys from the other kids, push them over. It got worse as he got older, and he didn't _want_ to stop. He liked it.

3. He wanted to have magic. Because if Harry had it, then so should he. That was the basis of it. Why should Harry have something he didn't? Something _extra._ The second Hagrid explained it, Dudley wanted it. But then he saw how scared his parents were – his dad went _mad_ – and then that – that _tail_ – and he was terrified, and didn't want magic, didn't want it near him, didn't want Harry near him.

4. He was, he had to admit, impressed when he found out how Harry had escaped. In a flying car. And when he inflated his aunt Marge. And when he saved his life, of course, even if it took him a while to realise that he actually had saved it, not attempted to make him blind and crazy.

But still, he was scared. Because there had always been something a little bit different about Harry, and Dudley was terrified of what he was capable of, what he may do.

After all, if he'd been bullied and terrorised for years, then was suddenly given unbelievable power, wouldn't _he_ want revenge?

5. Being hidden was like something from a movie. If he let himself, he could pretend to be a secret agent, hiding from the baddies while he planned his next move. A next move which would lead to an impressive culmination, with lots of guns and explosions and blood, with him emerging from the wreckage, dirt-stained, maybe slightly bloody, with his clothes ripped, but the winner, the survivor.

But, sometimes, he'd see the wizards who were protecting them receive an owl, or huddle over a small radio, or a magazine of some kind. And sometimes one of them would exclaim "oh, no!" or "I can't believe it – dead?" or else just exchange sad looks. And Dudley knew someone they knew had been killed, and couldn't imagine how that must be. (And, he couldn't help but worry that it might be Harry, though their protectors always denied it, with sideways looks at each other.)

6. Imagine. Harry had won. Had saved the world. Well, his world, anyway. The scrawny little kid he used to beat up...well. Who knew? And he couldn't help but sit there with a dopey smile on his face, proud of his annoying weirdo cousin.

But then the old feelings seeped back. Resentment – those wizards, they said Harry was a hero, and obviously there was something..._special _about him. And Dudley...well, what was Dudley? And, if Harry could kill the baddest wizard of all time, well, it wouldn't be difficult to wipe out Dudley's entire family, would it?

7. His employment had never been in question. Once he'd finished sixth-form he entered his father's company, in a higher position that people who'd been there years. It never occurred to him that he could work somewhere else, start at the bottom and work his way up. Never occurred to him to try and make it on his own.

It just wasn't the way he'd been brought up.

8. When they got Harry's letters, of his children, he realised that he was still living at home, with no girlfriend. And while he was obviously aware of this before, it was only after Lily's birth that he realised he ought to settle down too. It took him another few months of blind-dates, his mother's match-making, chatting up random girls, and one speed dating event before he finally met Scarlet. And it took only a few minutes to convince her to a date – a disastrous one, too, and he couldn't understand why she agreed to see him again.

And then three months later, they had an argument. It wasn't their first, but it was their worst, because in the heat of the moment she yelled that she was only with him before of his job, his salary. Because one day he'd inherit the company, and then, she yelled maliciously, they'd sell it and she'd divorce him, taking all she could.

It was weeks before he got over that. Weeks before he could go back to work, weeks before he stopped feeling do humiliated.

9. As a consequence, when he met Jane he didn't tell her about his job, his father's company, or how much he wanted to marry and have kids, like he had with Scarlet. In fact, it was four whole months before he finally told her where he worked, and another month before she found out his dad owned the company. And that was by accident, because Vernon Dursley hadn't known it was a secret when he mentioned it. And so it took Dudley a while to earn her forgiveness, and the whole Scarlet-story came out. She was very understanding; he realised he loved her. They married not so long after.

10. He half-hoped, half-feared that his children would have magic. When Jane told him they were going to have a baby, he told her about Harry. And she looked confused, but didn't seem to think there was any chance of them having a little witch or wizard.

She was right, too, and Dudley found himself half-relieved, half-disappointed.


	59. Hannah Abbott Longbottom

Goes without saying, really, but thanks for the reviews.

59. Hannah

1. Whenever her mother told her about the first war, she always looked so scared. Her face seemed ever so slightly pale, and faint lines appeared in the corner of her eyes. And because Hannah didn't like to see her mother looking so frightened – mothers weren't supposed to get scared, they were supposed to tell you there was nothing to be scared _of_ – she didn't ask about the war, didn't talk about it. Even so, she never forgot the look on her mum's face when she told Hannah that she didn't believe You-Know-Who was really dead.

2. She wasn't surprised when the hat said "Hufflepuff". She had expected it, and not in an I-don't-belong-anywhere-else-it'll-have-to-be-there kind of way. It wasn't by default. It wasn't a self-pity kind of thing. But because she knew she was a Hufflepuff. And while she couldn't have explained to anyone just why, or just what qualities she possessed that tied her to the house, she knew the hat had been right. And she was happy in that house.

3. Still, it took some getting used to, the way so many people were patronising towards her house. As though they were shy and naive and a little bit simple. And it was such a ridiculous prejudice and one that made her so mad that, after her first few months, she finally snapped, and started yelling at a Gryffindor fourth year who'd said something condescending to her.

It didn't change anything –well, that particular boy never said anything to her again – but she felt a lot better.

And, because she knew firsthand how easily people judged, she always tried to give the Slytherins a fair chance.

4. She really, really hated Harry Potter at the beginning of her fourth year. Because Cedric was their chance to prove to everyone else just how great Hufflepuffs really were. Their chance to change things, so that future generations wouldn't think "Oh, Hufflepuffs..." with that haughty, snobbish, we're-better-than-them kind of way, but instead they'd think, "Oh, Hufflepuffs!" with the same sort of awe that they spoke of Gryffindors. And there was Harry, trying to take that away from them. And so her fierce house-pride made her hate the boy she'd liked for years.

Until she saw the dragons. And then, somehow, she couldn't hate him, couldn't not worry and scream and cheer. Because, really, he wasn't that bad, and maybe he was even telling the truth about not putting his name in the goblet.

5. When she heard Voldemort was back, she swears her heart stopped. Because all she could think about was the look of fear in her mother's eyes whenever she spoke of the dark wizard, and Hannah knew that this was _bad_.

So she joined the D.A, resolved to fight, no matter what. To beat this guy, once and for all, so that no other children would have to feel scared and helpless when their mother spoke of him.

She would be there till the very end, she resolved.

6. She clearly remembers when she was told her mum was dead. A lot of people say events like that have blurred, faded. Maybe she ought to have repressed it. But she remembers it.

It was McGonagall who took her from Herbology, and up to her office. They both sat, on either side of the desk, and Hannah saw McGonagall's hand shaking, ever so slight. And knew something was terribly wrong.

"I'm very sorry, Hannah." McGonagall said carefully. Her first name. _Something awful had happened._ "There's no easy way to tell you this. Your mother...your mother has been killed." And she went numb. For a moment, the words didn't sink in, she didn't speak. "She refused to help the Death Eater's, Hannah, and they..."

"No." She finally spoke then. Because it was all too easy to imagine her mother refusing to help, and paying for it. "No, it's a mistake. Just a mistake." And McGonagall shook her head, reached across the desk and took her hand. Such a gesture was so unheard of from this particular person, and it made it so much worse.

"It's not a mistake. Dumbledore made sure himself. I'm so sorry, Hannah. I'm so very sorry."

"It's a lie then!" She yelled irrationally. If it wasn't a mistake, it was a lie, because it wasn't _true_. "It's a lie, it's a lie, they're lying! It's a lie, it's a lie, it's a lie..." And she repeated it, over and over, barely aware of McGonagall holding her, until her father arrived. And then she was forced to accept that it wasn't a mistake, or a lie. That it was real.

7. She was more determined than ever to fight after that. To win. For her mother. She helped the rebellion in her seventh year. She never considered not joining the final fight.

She fought for all she was worth, then ignored her own injures to help with the dead, the dying. She threw herself into the final stage of the fight. And then it was over, and Voldemort was dead and...and...And it hadn't helped. Hadn't brought her mum back. Hadn't erased the pain.

And somehow, it was like a betrayal. Only when looking at his dead body did she realised she'd believed, deep down, that his death could bring life back. And it hadn't, and she felt so betrayed.

8. She never considered that she'd end up with Neville. Sweet, awkward Neville, who had helped her with complex spells during her final year, who'd held her, hugged her, when it all became too much and she broke down. Neville, who, even after Ginny and Luna were gone, had remained strong for his friends. And then, somehow, she couldn't imagine _not_ being with him, and everything seemed to make sense.

But she had thought he was an orphan. Thought his parents were dead. So finding out that they weren't...for a few days she hated him, despite how much she loved him. Because her father had died not long after the final battle, and so their lack of parents had bound them together. She'd thought he understood, and...And she was jealous. She couldn't help resenting him for having parents when she didn't.

Then he took her to see them, and her heart broke for him. For the toddler who had lost his mother's hugs, for the child who hadn't understood why his parents were like this, for the teenager whose emotions had been conflicting, confusing. For the adult who still hoped for some miracle. And she couldn't hate him, because in a way she was far more lucky than he. She had had her parents for years, had had a normal, stable family. And he hadn't.

9. When her children ask about the war – and they ask often – she is careful. Not of what she says – they get the truth, the whole truth, because they deserve no less – but of her tone, her expression. She lets no fear into her eyes, onto her face. She keeps her voice steady, calm.

Her children will never know her terror, or her mother's terror. Nor will they have to have a teacher hug them while they struggle to accept their loss. She'll never let it happen, not that way, not for hers.

10. It was the fourth memorial before she finally sought out Professor McGonagall. She said simply "thank you" and when Minerva looked slightly confused, she added, "When my mother died..."

And the older woman simply clasped her hand, smiled, and then walked away. It was all they needed.


	60. Vernon Dursley

Should be revising. Told myself I would. Instead, I wrote this. So if I fail my exams, I'm blaming you lot. Irrational, I know, but I'm allowed. Want to know how many exams I've got tomorrow? Well, probably not, but I'm going to tell you anyway. Four. Yes, four, all in one day. Why would they do that? Why would any normal, none-sadistic person put four exams on one day? They wouldn't. Therefore, whoever schedules exams is abnormal and sadistic.

Anyway, here's Vernon's.

60. Vernon

1. When he was about six, Marge told him Santa Claus wasn't real. He was crushed. He'd always loved the idea of Santa, stayed awake for as long as possible on Christmas Eve, listening for hoofs on the roof.

But no, he wasn't real. It was all just a story, a lie. And little, heartbroken Vernon swore then and there that when he grew up and became a father, his child wouldn't be told Santa was real. His child wouldn't be told any silly fairy tales, stories of wishes and magic.

2. School wasn't easy for Vernon Dursley. He wasn't the smartest child, and often struggled. He wasn't good at sports, and so the other boys weren't very interested in him. Plus, he wasn't a very likeable person. So Vernon Dursley found himself going through school with very few friends, teachers who had little interest in him, and – during the later high school years – a bit of a panic that he'd never be able to get a job.

In the end, selling drills worked out best for him, however dull other people thought it.

3. When he met Petunia, he decided this was the next step in his life. He'd finished school, found a job. And so now it was time to marry, and Petunia Evans seemed like just the right kind of person for him – normal. People often said they were well suited, and Vernon and Petunia were both concerned with what other people thought and said. So he and Petunia seemed to perfect match.

Her sister, however, seemed highly unimpressed with him. If the sisters had been closer, she'd would have tried to talk Petunia into breaking up with him. It was obvious.

And then, a few days after they got engaged, Petunia told him about Lily, and what she was. At first, of course, he didn't believe her. Thought that this was some strange joke. But it wasn't a joke, or a lie. And Petunia was perfectly sane. Her sister really was a _witch_ – literally – and that just wasn't...normal. And Vernon wanted normality. A wife, house, car and child were normal. A sister who could do magic was not.

And so for a few days, Vernon did a lot of thinking, and was pretty certain he'd have to end things with Petunia and find someone else. Someone without _one of those_ in her family. But he did, for all his faults, care for Petunia, love her. And so he decided that – as long as their contact was highly limited – he could live with Petunia's sister. Not prominently in their lives, of course. But on the sidelines. Well, they could just pretend Lily Evans didn't exist.

4. Their wedding was simple and traditional. Boring, you could even say, though Vernon didn't think so. Her sister came, and brought a wizard with her. A wizard! Vernon nearly had a heart attack, especially when the man sought him out and grinned that they could be brothers-in-law one day. This man obviously didn't realise that Lily Evans wasn't going to be in their lives. He seemed to think the girls could make up, and they could all be a happy little family.

Well, Vernon soon set him straight, telling him that "his sort" wasn't the kind of people they wanted to fraternise with. James Potter looked annoyed, but unsurprised.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, for Lily's sake." He said quietly, and then walked away from Vernon, back to Lily. Good, Vernon thought. He didn't want that kind near him. For all he knew, he thought irrationally, this "magic" could be contagious.

5. They managed to find a perfect little house, and decorated it themselves. Well, mostly. And they purchased a nice car, even if it was a little older than Vernon had wanted – but they couldn't afford, at the time, to splash out on a brand new one. And then all they needed was a child.

During this time, Petunia's sister married that wizard. They attended the wedding, because Petunia's parents practically begged them to. Petunia's sister also found herself a nice little house, though they didn't bother with a car. But only a few months after Petunia finally fell pregnant, so had Lily.

He was annoyed, because the wedding, house, car and child was supposed to be his and Petunia's life, and how dare they do the same? They could at least have the decency to wait a little while, rather than just copying them.

Still, he reasoned to an annoyed Petunia, they could just go on pretending she didn't have a sister, never mind a brother-in-law and a nephew or niece.

6. Everything was perfect. Normal. They had a son, and so their perfect little lives were complete. They had everything they wanted.

What they did not want was Lily Potter's orphaned child. But there was no doubt about it – Lily and her husband were dead, and their child was now their responsibility. Potter's parents had died before Harry's birth; Petunia's had died a few months ago. And so they were the only relatives Harry had. And despite his protests that they really should leave the boy to the authorities, Petunia muttered that it was what her mother would have wanted her to do.

And so their normal, perfect lives were disrupted, by some orphaned little wizard. Not, of course, that he was going to be a wizard for long. Oh no. They were going to fix that.

7. They couldn't fix it. The boy still had little spots of magic, and nothing – _nothing _– seemed to stop that.

Still, at least while he was away at that school they could pretend he didn't exist. Maybe he'd even get adopted by some magical sort. Or killed. Not that he really wanted the boy to die, exactly, but he wouldn't have cried if he had. But the boy had to come back every summer, and every time he returned he seemed more magic, more strange, and he just didn't belong with them.

8. Still, he was a little sorry, he supposed, that that man was after him. Lord what's-his-name. As far as he could tell, the man was crazy, and after Harry for no real reason. And that didn't seem very fair. Besides, when he asked Petunia what would happen if Lord what-do-you-call-him took control, she looked very afraid, and so he had to hope Harry could stop him, didn't he?

And he was relieved when those people protecting them finally said that it was over, that Lord thingy-mi-jig was dead. Though the boy could have done it a bit quicker, he was sure.

9. He was surprised when they got the wedding invite. They hadn't seen the boy since they'd gone into hiding, and Vernon couldn't for the life of him think why the boy would even want them there. But there it was, crystal clear. _You are invited to the wedding of Harry Potter and Ginerva Weasley._ They didn't go. He didn't even think about it, telling Petunia it was up to her and not even considering that she'd want to. He was further surprised when they had the first letter, about the boy having a child. And another. And then yet another. He remarked to Petunia that the boy was probably trying to copy the girl's family, with more kids than they knew where to put. But she didn't reply.

He knew she saved them, the letters. Didn't know why, though. He guessed it was just one of those strange woman-y things, and never mentioned it.

10. These days, he finally has the normality he'd always wanted. He has a wife, a house, a car, a son, and two grandchildren. Nothing strange ever happens at Privet Drive, and especially not to the Dursleys.


	61. Dobby

Been meaning to get to this one for a while, but was waiting for inspiration. Well, I finally got it.

Thanks for reviewing, and thanks to those who wished me luck for my tests - not sure if it helped or not, think I could probably have done better - but thanks all the same. Still, last one on Monday, and then I don't have to worry till August, when the dreaded results arrive. Then I'll start my next year of college, and get to worry all over again. Fun. Ha, now I need to find a job...

61. Dobby

1. He knew, from the very beginning, that this wasn't the right life for him. Not just because of the family he was with, but the whole slavery thing. He wasn't made for it. At first, he'd dream of being free, really believing it would happen, one day. But as the years wore on, his spirit faded, his soul slowly broke, and Dobby resigned himself to being a house elf, a slave, mistreated and miserable.

2. He couldn't explain, exactly, why he wanted to help Harry Potter. You'd think, after the wretchedness of his life, that he wouldn't care about anyone else. You'd think, even, that the idea of someone else's death and misery would please him. For some, it may have been that way, but Dobby wasn't capable of such feelings. And so all he could think, when he realised was Lucius was planning, was that Harry Potter didn't deserve that, Harry Potter needed to be alive in order to save the world when Voldemort once again rose. And so he did all he could think of.

3. He was a little upset that his plan didn't work. He felt like a failure, like the useless elf his family – that is, the family he served – said he was.

Harry Potter was going to die, and it would be all his fault.

Only, Harry Potter didn't die. And even though, the last time he'd seen him, Harry Potter had been extremely angry with him, Harry Potter _freed_ him. Dobby had long since given up on his freedom, and then – when he least expected it, out of the blue – he was free. A dirty sock had freed him. There had never been such a beautiful item of clothing, never been such a wonderful place as that hallway, never been such an amazing feeling as there was in that moment, when he realised, never had been marvellous words as the ones he spoke to Lucius Malfoy – "Dobby is free".

4. It wasn't, however, as he'd expected it. Somehow, whenever he'd thought of freedom, he'd thought everything would be perfect. The sun would be shining, and the birds singing, and he'd be hired straight away, by a nice, normal, non-Death Eater person.

So when doors were slammed, when confused witches and wizards told him that the point of a house elf was that you didn't pay them, when people sneered at him, he didn't really understand it.

It was raining when he finally realised that the Malfoys hadn't treated him the way they had because they were bad people. Or not just because of that, anyway. It was, it seemed, normal to treat house elves nearly as bad as the Malfoys had.

And disillusionment is never fun.

5. He had always respected Albus Dumbledore, though never met him. Still, he'd lost his hopes of being paid, being treated fairly, and was just trying to get Winky settled. He figured that he'd ask Dumbledore about money, but if he wouldn't pay, either, he'd work for a while, until Winky was OK, and then he'd move on and try again.

But when Dumbledore offered to pay him – all that money! – he found himself smiling for weeks. To think, he'd found someone willing to pay! Willing to treat him fairly!

6. Which was a good thing, really, because Winky wasn't OK. Nor, it seemed, was she going to be any time soon. And that was hard for Dobby, because Winky had been his friend for a long time. And while the other Hogwarts house elves were ashamed of her, hiding her away, he was worried she was going to hurt herself. And when her master – ex-master – died, he thought she might die, too, right there in front of him. And though he tried his hardest to comfort her, he couldn't.

Dobby still didn't like feeling like a failure.

7. He was scared, when Voldemort came back. Terrified. If he gained power...Well, Dobby's freedom wouldn't be worth anything. Nothing would be worth anything. And he had to help – somehow – he would help...

It was Kreacher, though, who made him realise just how far he would be willing to go. When the other elf started saying how Voldemort would fix everything that was wrong with the world, Dobby told him Harry Potter would stop him. And when Kreacher said Harry Potter was just one stupid boy, and how was he supposed to do that by himself, Dobby replied that Harry Potter wasn't alone, that many would help, including himself. Kreacher sneered at him, asked if he'd be willing to die.

And Dobby – without thought or hesitation – replied "Yes."

8. He never liked Severus Snape. He'd been at the Malfoys's house several times, and always sneered at Dobby. And he kind of scared him a little bit. He didn't look as if he'd think twice about kicking Dobby across the room. So, even at Hogwarts, when Dobby knew, really, that Dumbledore wouldn't let him get away with elf-murder, he avoided the wizard at all costs.

But then Dumbledore was dead – and Snape was headmaster, and Voldemort was in control and Harry Potter had a bounty on his head, and...

And, not for the first time, Dobby thought all hope was lost.

9. Being in that house again, it was like he'd never been away. All the old terror came back, and Dobby wanted to curl up in the shadows and pretend he didn't exist, like he'd sometimes done before he was free. If it hadn't been for Harry Potter's voice, Dobby may very well have done so.

He hadn't been allowed in the cellar, he found himself thinking, even as Harry Potter instructed him to get his friends and go. He hadn't been allowed in here, because sometimes important, secret – bad – stuff was hidden there. He'd have to punish himself. Even as he gripped hands and apparated, he was anxiously trying to decide a punishment.

And then, breathing the fresh air outside Shell Cottage, it was like being freed all over again. Only – only he had to go back, for Harry Potter.

10. He thought, for a moment, when he appeared back in the manor, that he was going to die there. He couldn't possible make it out alive – not again – and he was bound to die – but then Harry Potter was gripping his hand, and suddenly they were leaving – leaving, alive – and Dobby barely noticed the sharp pain.

It was only when he was back, breathing that glorious fresh air, that he realised what the pain was. That he realised the he wasn't going to die at Malfoy Manor, but nor was he going to live much longer. He could feel it, feel the pressure on his chest, the burning in his lungs, and grey around his vision. He was dying, and nothing could stop it, not even Harry Potter. And because he knew Harry Potter would blame himself for this – for his _death_ – he tried to tell him – tried to say it wasn't his fault, that this was worth dying for – but he couldn't get the words out...

And all he could think was that at least he was breathing the fresh air, at least he was free. At least he'd had almost five years of not having to punish himself, or curl up in the shadows holding his bleeding or burning or bruised body parts, or live in fear. At least he'd have almost five years of freedom, of pride, of happiness and clothes. It could be – would have to be – enough.


	62. Lavender Brown

Random pairing, pretend it's someone else if you want.

62. Lavender

1. Beautiful. It was the adjective used to describe her from a young age. Relatives would coo over the bright baby girl, pronounce her beautiful, and mean it. Little boys would look at the child and whisper that wasn't she very pretty? Teenage boys would blush as they told the teenager she was beautiful, and would she like to go to Hogsmeade with them? Other girls would look at her jealously, muttering that it wasn't fair.

And while it is, of course, very nice to be thought of as beautiful, it got rather tedious. And Lavender soon got rather sick of teenage boys who seemed to be with her just to show off to their friends, and wanted to make out rather than talk.

2. She didn't expect to be a Gryffindor. Not really. She didn't think she'd be a Slytherin, either, or a Ravenclaw, or a Hufflepuff, and while she was aware those were the only houses, she couldn't imagine fitting into any of them. And while her parents told her that of course she'd be sorted, no one seemed to be able to tell her exactly where she'd be sorted _to. _So when the hat put her in Gryffindor, home of the brave, she was very confused, and certain there must be some mistake.

But she didn't really feel like going home and telling everyone she was un-sortable, so she kept quiet.

3. Some of the lessons were really, really hard, and sometimes she couldn't help but wonder if she was, in fact, just another "pretty face". It was something that bothered her, when she got her not-exactly-high grades, something that forced her to try harder for her O.W.Ls. And while her results weren't bad, she couldn't help but look at Hermione Granger and hate her a little bit, for being so smart, and not even all that ugly. Well, not if she did something with her hair, and stood up straight, and put the books down and smiled a little. But when the obnoxious kind of boys patted her head and told her not to worry her "pretty little self" about whatever it was she was thinking about, she sort of wished she was more like Hermione.

4. Voldemort was never something that bothered her. After all, he was long gone now, somehow killed by a baby. So why should she worry about it? Why would she believe Harry when he said Voldemort was back? People couldn't come back for the dead, and Harry wasn't known for keeping a low profile. So obviously he was just attention seeking, right? Cedric's death had just been some kind of horrible freak accident, and Voldemort was still dead.

Later, she'd remember that, remember her beliefs, and think "if only..."

5. Ron Weasley had always been a little funny-looking, a little annoying, a little stupid, and occasionally amusing. He wasn't someone Lavender particularly disliked, but he wasn't someone she particularly paid attention to, either.

But then he was such a good Quidditch player – she never did much like the sport, but he looked good at it – and he was obviously brave, with the things he'd done with Harry Potter. And he was a prefect, too, so he couldn't really be all that stupid. She decided to like him, really, rather than it happening naturally. Still, at first she rather liked being with him. He _could_ be amusing, and people seemed rather impressed she was Harry Potter's best friend's girlfriend. But he, too, seemed only interested in kissing.

6. Still, no one likes to have a boyfriend who's in love with someone else, and as much as she tried to ignore it, there was obviously something between Ron and Hermione Granger. Rather than ending things, though, she clung to him tighter, inventing nicknames that made even Parvati wince, giving him a necklace that she sort of knew he wouldn't like, and trying to spend lots of time together. Her reasoning was that spending time together meant they'd get to know each other, and he'd like her more than Hermione.

It didn't work, though, and then she thought he was cheating – actually cheating – on her with Hermione, and she had to end things. And really, she had to admit after a week or so, it wasn't a great loss.

7. She was shocked when told Dumbledore was dead. Actually dead. He may have been ancient, and seemed a little crazy, but somehow she'd never expected him to actually _die_. Not when he was the only one Voldemort was afraid of, the only one who had any chance of stopping him. How could he die and leave them to fend for themselves?

And it all snowballed from there, with people dying, people hiding, Voldemort and his Death Eaters in control. Harry Potter on the run, even though the world regarded him as their last hope. And because she didn't know about the Horcruxes, because she didn't know Harry very well, she assumed he was being selfish, hiding for his own safety, when he was the only one who could help them, and she hated him for it.

8. And then suddenly he was at Hogwarts, in their sanctuary. And they were going to fight the Death Eaters, claim the school.

Only, that wasn't all. That was what they'd prepared for, but it wasn't all. Voldemort was coming, too. To Hogwarts. To where they were, a bunch of teenagers with no hope of winning.

But then that pessimistic thought was silenced, by everyone else's hope. Around her, people were saying this was it, they were going to end it. And more were arriving. And they were saying it had gone on long enough, and he couldn't possibly kill them all.

And, despite the fact that he, in fact, could kill them all, she found herself swept up in the emotion of it, believing they'd win. They'd live.

And then it all kicked off, and it was chaos. Exciting, terrifying chaos. And parts of the castle were crumbling, exploding. And there was a huge blast, and she felt herself falling, falling. She hit the ground, hard, hit her head. But didn't have time to think about it – because then a face was in front of hers, empty yellow eyes and dirty, sharp teeth, that sank into her neck, while sharp, discoloured nails raked at her face, her arm. She could barely breathe, barely focus, and couldn't scream, as she felt his nails tearing her face, her right arm, his teeth biting her neck.

He was the werewolf. Greyback, the one they were all so terrified of. She was going to die – he was going to kill her – but then Hermione Granger's voice rang out, a loud "NO!" and he was off her, his nails and teeth away from her skin. She tried to sit up, but couldn't...couldn't...

And Seamus Finnegan was leaning over her, dabbing at the blood with his sleeve and telling her she'd be OK.

9. After, she found Hermione, flung her arms around her, and sobbed her thanks. Hermione hugged her fiercly back. It didn't matter that they weren't alike, that they'd never got on, that Lavender had always envied her a little. The whole Ron-business was forgotten. Because Hermione had saved her life, and they were both so glad to be alive.

It was an amzing moment. Realising she was alive, and it was over. He was gone. She'd been patched up, best they could. The bleeding had stopped, mostly. And so she'd assumed she was back to normal. But then her mother saw her, burst into tears. And for the first time Lavender raised her hands, traced the deep rips in her face, found the broke flesh on her neck. It wasn't until later that she looked in a mirror – and her own tears stung the wounds. Her face was deeply marked, torn and punctured. Her neck bore bite marks and chewed flesh. And though the wounds were closed, were healed somewhat, the scars remained. Criss-crossed lines, and dents in her once-flawless skin. Her neck had a large patch of scars, intertwining. Long marks streched down her arm.

And Lavender cried when she saw them, felt them. No one, she thought bitterly, would call her beautiful again.

10. Only, she was wrong. Because Seamus did. He whispered it, when she said she was hideous. Whispered that the scars showed how brave she'd been. Showed that they'd won, despite their losses. Whispered that she was, despite them, beautiful. Told her that she'd so nearly died, that when she'd passed out, right after the attack, he'd held her, broken and bleeding, terrified that she would die in his arms. Told her that, after coming so close to dying, she couldn't dwell on the marks.

"They're just the proof we survived." He whispered, tracing them.

That's what she told her son, years later, when he questioned them. "They're just the proof we survived." She said. And, like his father had, he told her she was beautiful. And that's why she can look at her daughters, see the unmarked beauty she used to have, and not feel bitter.


	63. Cedric Diggory

I have to admit, this is a character I'm indifferent towards. But I'm pretty sure it was requested, so I figure, why not?

63. Cedric

1. He really hated being an only child, from a very young age. He'd asked for a little brother or sister for years, until he finally gave up, aged nine. His parents said they were happy with just him, though he suspected they were unable to have more children.

But his dislike wasn't just because it was sort of lonely, or because while his friends shared anecdotes about siblings he was unable to, or even because it just felt like a real family ought to have a couple of kids, at least, rather than just one.

It was also because his parents were so proud of him. So convinced that he was perfect in every way, and was going to be a great wizard, a great man. And he couldn't help but resent the pressure, and think that if he had a sibling, then so much wouldn't be expected of him. He wouldn't be expected to get good grades _and_ win Quidditch matches. He wouldn't be expected to be so _good_ at everything, because the things he couldn't do, his sibling would be able to. And while this didn't make much sense, even to himself, he couldn't help feeling that way.

2. He had been convinced he'd been in Gryffindor. His parents had both been Ravenclaws, but he'd favoured Gryffindor. He liked everything about it – the colours, the lion, the qualities – and so convinced himself that he'd be there. Because he wanted it so much.

But then the hat was on his head, and the hat muttered, "Easy, easy," and yelled Hufflepuff to the hall. And for a moment he sat there, stunned, before realising that he was expected to get up, to take a seat at the table...The Hufflepuff table. And so he did, trying to get his head around it, shooting longing looks at the Gryffindor table.

3. It took a few weeks for him to finally settle in his house. To accept the yellow, the badger. To get used to heading down to the common room, rather than up, to the Gryffindor tower like he wanted. But once he'd settled, he realised how much he liked the common room. How much he liked the other people in his house. How much he liked earning points for Hufflepuff.

They were loyal and fair, and he decided that he liked those qualities. Liked knowing they were his.

4. He tried out for his house Quidditch team in his first year. The captain humoured him, but it was obvious he wasn't considering letting him on the team. Cedric was a decent flyer, and, though the only available position was chaser, and he was a better seeker, his try-out was pretty good. And he actually thought, maybe...

But the captain said that first-years never made the team, and he should just try again in a year or two.

So Cedric was extremely annoyed when, a few years later, when Cedric was still unable to make the team, Harry Potter made _his_ team in his first year. And, for the first time since his first month at Hogwarts, his old negative feelings returned about his house. If he'd been a Gryffindor, like he'd wanted, then maybe _he'd_ have made the team in his first year.

But the feelings were short-lived. Quidditch or not, he liked his house, and he belonged there.

5. He felt his hand close over the cold surface of the snitch, it's wings beating rapidly against his skin, and couldn't believe it. Harry Potter had never lost – but now the snitch was in _his_ fist, now he'd won, now –

Now Harry Potter was on the ground, and Dementors were drifting away from the pitch, and Dumbledore was hurrying towards Harry, and his friends were spilling from the stands.

And they hadn't – no matter what the official verdict was, or what his father told everyone – really won. Because Harry Potter passing out and falling from the broom didn't make Cedric a better seeker. And he wanted, more than anything, to face him again. Just to see if he could win, really win.

Next time, he told himself. Next time, they'd face each other, and play fair. (Only, next time never came.)

6. The Triwizard Tournament. Fame, fortune, glory. He could be champion – he could finally show everyone just what Hufflepuff could do.

He didn't hesitate about putting him name in the Goblet, but he was astonished when he actually became champion. Him! It was like his wildest dreams coming true – and he could win, he was sure of it, and – and –

And Harry Potter managed to get himself picked, too, underage and the forth champion. The extra one. The special one. The one everyone - from Ludo Bagman to the press - took interest in.

It just wasn't _fair. _As childish as it seemed, even to him, it just wasn't fair that Harry Potter had upstaged him. Not when Harry already had fame, without even trying. Not when Harry had made his Quidditch team in his first year without even trying out. Not when Harry had managed to win the Quidditch Cup, even after losing the first match. After everything the kid had already done, he didn't need the Tournament.

And he couldn't want it more than Cedric. No one could.

7. Dragons. Real, fire-breathing, dragons. And he was supposed to get past one? And live? He raised his wand, thinking that the stupid gold egg couldn't possibly be worth it – and cast his spell. He thought it could work – it was working – and he was almost there – he had it –

And _fuck _that hurt. He was barely aware of the egg clutched in his hand, or everyone screaming, or people running towards him.

Skin on fire? Worst. Pain. Ever.

8. He wasn't bothered by the prospect of getting a date for the Yule Ball. He wasn't arrogant, exactly, but he knew he'd have no problem finding someone to go with.

But he knew who he wanted. And so, swallowing the nerves, he tugged Cho away from her mates, and offered an awkward smile as he asked her to go with him.

And she smiled back, nodded. "Yes. I'd like that."

She never told him Harry had asked her too.

9. He wasn't aware Cho meant the most to him. They liked each other a lot. But if he'd have known that it was going to be a person the mermaids would steal, he'd have expected it to be one of his friends, or his parents, or someone like that.

Still, he was terrified when he saw her tied to that statue. Absolutely terrified.

10. And then it was almost over. The third task. He battled his way through the maze, then saw the prize – gleaming gold, emitting light despite the darkness of the maze, and he was going to win – actually _win_ – and possess all the glory, bring fame and respect to his house...

And then he wasn't. Harry Potter – and wasn't it _always_ him? – was there – and he should...he was the winner...Cedric knew that Harry should be the one to take it...

Even sharing it was good enough, he thought as he stretched a hand out. They'd both get the glory, fame, respect – and it was enough.

And even the cup being a portkey couldn't fade his happiness. Even the small figure moving towards them couldn't conjure enough fear to shrink his elation.

Even the bright green light whooshing towards him couldn't end his delight.

And he was dead before he realised it - and so death couldn't take his joy.


	64. MadEye Moody

Again, look at the amount of reviews. Wow and big thanks.

64. Mad-Eye

1. When he was young, at school, he was rather shy. Small and funny looking, not the most talented of wizards. He made friends – for outcasts will often find one another, and often make the best friends – but he kept to himself when around other people. He was, yes, sometimes pushed around a little by other students. He was, yes, sometimes made fun of by other students.

And in his fifth year, sick of being in the background, defenceless, unimportant, he decided he would be _somebody_. He would be powerful, admired, in control.

2. His auror training was difficult. Extremely so. He wasn't stupid – but nor was he a magical genius, and so some parts of the training were more difficult than he'd anticipated. He had to work hard at it, and work long hours, too. There were several times when he considered just giving up, wondering if it would be worth it in the long run.

Then he'd remember the sixteen year old, who faced himself in a rather dirty mirror and swore to better himself. And he couldn't let himself down.

3. When he finally – _finally_ – qualified...words can't describe it. The amazing feeling, of finally being worth something, of succeeding. He was presented with a certificate – just a single certificate...and he stared at it for hours. Just sat, stared, and smiled. And then, when he'd finally looked enough (and realised that he really ought to eat before he passed out from hunger) he tucked it safely away in his trunk.

(After he was finally realised from his trunk, all those years later, his certificate was the first thing he checked. If Barty Crouch Jnr had damaged his certificate...But it was fine, safe, and couldn't explain why it was so important, what with him being retired and everything.)

4. The first time he caught a dark wizard, he was terrified. Terrified of losing – of ending up letting the wizard get away from him. He caught him, though, and gave evidence at the trail and had the man locked away. And still, still he couldn't celebrate properly, because he'd expected to miss his first try. And it was impossible to catch them all, right? He had to lose once...and he was terrified that when he did fail, it would be on someone much more important.

5. It was a whole year before he failed. A whole year, and a couple of weeks. He was hit, by two stunners, and the person he was chasing got away.

He caught him, a few days later. Caught him, locked him up. And no one ever mentioned the failure. But he thought of it often – not because it was a failure, but because in those few days between his unsuccessful attempt and his successful one, the man he was after killed a family of four muggles. Two were children, aged seven and five. And he could never forget their faces. Never forget that he could have – should have – prevented their deaths.

He never forgot them, their names, their faces. Never. And in a way, it made him a better auror - he never let himself fail again.

6. He liked the Order of Phoenix. While some were terrified to belong to it, and considered it simply a regrettable duty, he was one of those who liked it. Liked knowing that he was helping, fighting.

Sirius Black was the same. Disgusted by evil and committed to helping. That's why it actually rather hurt when he thought Sirius was a death eater. After he'd vouched for him when Dumbledore expressed his doubts. After he'd _believed_ in him. Trusted him. Liked him. They'd been unalike, yet alike. Different people – Sirius had the popularity, the confidence, the likability Moody had always lacked – but they had the same drive to prove themselves, to establish themselves – him as someone powerful and important, Sirius as someone good, and separate from his family.

So believing Sirius to be a Death Eater? Well, he doubted himself for a very long time after that.

7. He wasn't surprised that Tom Riddle was really Voldemort. They'd been at school together, though in separate years. And while Riddle probably never noticed Moody – not being powerful or well connected, Moody would have been no use to him – Moody noticed him. Because he was confident, popular, talented, everything the teenage Moody had wanted to be.

But there was something...something about him, that Moody – and he'd later think that it was possibly a clue that he was meant to be an auror, that he had all the right instincts – recognised as dark. That would be a guy who went bad, he knew.

Still, he never knew just how "bad" Tom Riddle would go.

8. When he first met Nymphadora Tonks, he was extremely unimpressed. She was smiley, clumsy, and far too young. He was annoyed that she'd even managed to get into the training program – she couldn't possibly be good enough – and expected her to be tremendously bad at everything.

So when she turned out to be actually a pretty good auror, not to mention witch, he was surprised. And, when she managed to earn his respect, and affection, in a uncle-niece kind of way, he was even more astounded.

But he grew very fond of her, and very annoyed at the way Remus Lupin treated her.

9. Being attacked and hidden in his own trunk damaged him somewhat. It made him even more nervous that he had been, and made him guilty, too. Because while he couldn't have, really, prevented Voldemort's return, he feels a little responsible for it – he was, after all, instrumental in the plot. Without him, it probably wouldn't have happened.

If he hadn't agreed to take the job...if he hadn't have been so paranoid before, maybe people would have looked into his attack more closely...if he'd have fought just a little bit harder...if he hadn't have had that damn trunk in the first place...if he'd have had better security on his house...if he'd have managed to escape...if he hadn't been so easy to impersonate...

So many little factors, so important.

10. Yes, he was prepared to die. This was, after all, important. Harry Potter was the only one who could end the war. Harry Potter needed to live.

And so he was prepared to die. But he didn't really believe he _would_.

And so, when he saw the wand, the scarlet eyes, his mouth opened in surprise. Because he knew that he was actually going to die. That he wouldn't make it back alive. And, maybe it was arrogance, but he couldn't help but wonder if the others could survive without him.

But then there was green light, and nothing more.


	65. Dean Thomas

Well, I don't know if it's because I've haven't written one in a few days, or if it's just because there's a lot to say for Dean, but I think I could have got this up to twenty little things if I'd wanted to. There seemed to be so much there for him, and so I know there's stuff I've left out.

Oh, and just so you know, I'm going over some of my earlier chapters, just elaborating a little on the points. I've got up to about nine so far, I think, and I'll be doing more when I get the chance.

65. Dean

1. "Do you remember your daddy, Dean?" His little half sister asks him. He is seven, she is four, and looking at him quizzically. She dotes on him, little Abigail, and Dean was afraid that when she found out her father wasn't really his, she would reject him. But his mother never hid it from him, or from his sister, and doubtless she will make sure his two year old brother and the baby she is currently carrying know the truth, too. Dean doesn't really mind this – he is loved, by both his mother and step-father, after all – but he worries, still, that his siblings would feel distanced from him.

Abi doesn't seem to feel that way, though. "Do you?" She persists, when Dean doesn't answer.

"No." Dean replies quietly. "I told you, he left when I was really little – even smaller than Jack."

"Oh." Abi replies. "Is he dead?" She asks bluntly.

"I don't know." Dean shrugs, thinking that he really ought to know that. Shouldn't he? A son should know if his father is alive or dead. Abi opens her mouth again, and because Dean can't face more questions, he changes the subject swiftly.

But when he goes to bed that night, he lays awake for a long while, trying to remember. His mum always tries to keep a neutral tone when talking about his father. She had tried to make out that his dad had loved him, but had to go away. When Dean had asked why his dad had to go away, she hadn't been able to answer. No amount of neutral tones or pretty words can disguise the fact that his father abandoned him, Dean knows.

His dad, Dean thinks, as tears gather in his eyes, didn't love him, and didn't want to stay with him. He wasn't even good enough for his father to stay around.

2. Dean picks up the dead flower head, looks at his sister's tear-stained face. "I didn't mean to kill it." She says quietly.

"It's OK." He replies softly, wanting to ease her pain. And in his hand, the flower head brightens. Without even thinking about it, Dean leans down, holds the flower against the stem his sister had picked it from. And when he releases the flower, it stays, stuck to the stem as if it never left it.

"How did you do that?" His sister asks, wide-eyes and smiling, delighted.

"I don't know." Dean says, smiling back. It is strange, he thinks. But it made her smile again, so it can't be a bad thing.

3. He reads the letter again, looks up at him mum and frowns. "Is this a joke?" He asks.

"I...I don't know..." His mum says worriedly, glancing at the man Dean calls dad. The man who Dean considers his dad. And then there is a knock at the door, and a woman wearing a dark blue cloak explains that it isn't a joke – that Dean really is a wizard, and really has a place at a magic school.

And a few hours later, Dean is in his bedroom, looking in wonder at the letter. "A wizard." He murmurs in wonder. "I'm a wizard."

His youngest sister, three year old Tia, clambers onto his bed, and has his book list half way to his mouth before Dean realises and takes it from her. "No, Tia." He tells her firmly. "This is important." Then, smiling, he leans forward. "Can you keep a secret? I'm a wizard." He likes saying the word, and so says it over and over, tickling his little sister.

The teacher who'd come to explain had said he was muggle-born, meaning a wizard born to non-magical parents. When he'd asked if that was bad, she smiled and told him no. "Some of the best witches and wizards I know were muggle-born." She tells him. It never enters Dean's head that he might not actually be muggle-born.

But downstairs, his mum and step-dad are talking. Discussing the possibility that Dean isn't really muggle-born...but a half-blood. They don't know either way; and so don't mention it to Dean.

4. He sits on the train nervously, wishing he wasn't alone. He isn't used to being alone – with so many siblings, lonesomeness is a rarity. But here he is on the train, all by his self.

If only one of his brothers or sisters were here. If only he could have brought his mum or dad with him. If only he had a wizard friend, just so he wouldn't be here with only his nerves for company.

The door slides open, and a sandy haired boy smiles awkwardly at him. "Can I sit in here?" He asks.

"Yes." Dean says quickly. The boy sits down, and begins to talk.

And he and Seamus were friends before they reached the castle.

5. He can't believe it. Well, he believes it, but still. Magic, for Dean, had always been something wonderful, amazing. And yet, here he is, wide-awake and afraid.

Harry said Voldemort was back. And Dean could only imagine what that meant for the world. For him. It's bad, he knows. Very bad. And yet he doesn't know what he's supposed to do about it.

And so he simply watches. Watches as Voldemort finally reveales himself, and as people are killed. He watches Hannah Abbott get pulled out of Herbology to be told her mother is dead. He watches the Montgomery sisters cry over their brother. He watches the secret world he loves deteriorate, and doesn't know what to do about it.

Even wizards, he realises for the first time, could feel powerless.

6. He doesn't read the full article. Doesn't need to. Voldemort is behind this, he knows. And if he reports to the ministry for questioning, like he's supposed to, he knows he won't make it out alive. And he knows that he can't stay here – he's not only putting himself in danger, but his family, too. He hasn't told them about the war, not wanting to worry them. But now – now they need to know. He writes a note, explaining that there's a war in his world, and that as a muggle born he's in danger. That he'll contact them when he can, but for now he has to leave. He apologises, and assures them they're safe. And he puts the note on the kitchen table, where it'll be found. Then he packs his things and apparatus to Seamus's.

"I need your help." He whispers. It's the dead of the night, but Seamus goes with him; back to the house where Dean's family sleeps. Together, they surround the place in as many protective spells as they can.

"They'll be safe, Dean." Seamus tells him.

"Can you...in the holidays..." Dean mumbles, but Seamus stops him, nods.

"I'll check up on them, as often as I can. Where...where are you going to go?"

Dean shakes his head. "I'll move around." He says quietly. "I'll...keep running."

"Be careful, Dean." Seamus says. "God, stay alive."

"I will." Dean replies, knowing he can't guarantee it. Knowing this could be the last time he sees his best friend. And feeling tears spring to his eyes. "You too. Stay safe, stay alive." Seamus nods, and the two embrace. And then Dean leaves, feeling nothing but guilt – it feels very much like he's abandoning those he cares about.

7. He hears a scream. It came from his own mouth, but didn't sound like him. Dean drops the firewood he'd collected, unable to look away from the scene before him, but not wanting to see it.

Ted Tonks didn't have the chance to scream. Griphook grabs Dean's sleeve, tugs him back the way they'd just come. They run, before they can be captured too. If they hadn't gone for the firewood, Dean thinks, they'd have been at camp. They'd have been found, and killed, just like the others.

Can't run forever, he thinks dully. And sure enough, they're caught, not too much later. This is it, he thinks. The end. He panics when Harry and the others are caught, too. Because while he had already accepted that this was the end for him, Harry has to live. Harry has to defeat Voldemort, so that Dean's family, Dean's friends, can live. If Harry's gone...

Appearing at Ron's brother's house is like breathing again. He'd been so sure he was a goner, so sure he'd never see his family again, and here he is, breathing the fresh sea air.

And despite everything that was going on, it feels good to be alive.

8. He and Luna had grown close at Shell Cottage. Purely platonically, of course. Not that she wasn't pretty, or that he wasn't over Ginny, or anything like that. No, there was an innocence about Luna that made him want to be her friend, not her boyfriend.

And then she was looking at him, her eyes bright with excitement and fear, telling him Harry and the others were at Hogwarts, that there was going to be revolution, a fight, and did he want to come with her? She didn't look so innocent any more, not as she calmly repeated herself to Bill Weasley, or as she led Dean into the garden, past the protective spells' boundaries, and apparated with him.

But they'd become good friends, and when the war started he worried about her as much as Seamus. And when they got their one-hour break, he anxiously searched for her as well as Seamus, desperately hoping that neither of them were laid with the dead. And when he finally found her, he hugged her just as tightly as did Seamus. And when it was finally over – when Voldemort was gone – and wasn't it impossible to believe he was actually gone, after all of this? – he hugged her again. But there was nothing more-than-friends between them.

(That was what he assured Parvati, a long while later, when the two of them went on their first date, fixed up by Seamus and Lavender. And at the end of the night, when he softly kissed Parvati goodnight, he was rather glad there was nothing between him and Luna, or anyone else, because he and Parvati...well, this might just work out.)

And after he married, he and Luna remained friends. Because some things create an everylasting bond - and having to hide away at Shell Cottage in order to live was one of them.

9. One of the best things about the war ending – alongside all the obvious ones – was that he got to go home. Got to walk up to his own front door, ring the bell, and see his mother's face when she opened it and saw him there. She nearly strangles him with her hug, and he's remorseful to see how thin she's got, how strained she looks.

"We've been so worried." She whispers, clinging to him. "Your friend – Seamus – he's been coming here in the holidays, bring us news. And sending messages when he could. But he – he didn't know about you...if you were...if you were definitely OK..."

"I'm sorry." Dean murmurs, meaning it. "But I – I didn't want to put you in danger. It's OK, now, mum. It's over. It's all over."

And then Abi walks into the hallway, screams. And runs at him. Next thing he knows, he's surrounded by siblings, and his dad, and it's good to be home.

10. It's Parvati who answers the door, while he plays in the living room with his son. And the wizard who enters the room explains he's a friend of Dean's father – and once Dean realises he means his biological father, the man explains.

So he finally knows the truth. That his dad was a wizard. That his dad was murdered. "He loved you." The friend assures him. "Was so proud of you."

Dean thanks the man when he leaves, but finds himself feeling almost indifferent towards the news. After all these years, his biological father had been forgotten to him. He's called his step-father dad for so long, it got hard to remember that biologically, he wasn't. And he'd long since let go of those old abandonment issues – after the war, after seeing the dead and coming so close to joining them, things like that seemed unimportant.

"Are you OK?" Parvati asks him quietly. He thinks about it before he nods.

"I'm fine." He tells her. "A bit...shocked. But fine. It...It was all so long ago, it's hard to get worked up about it. I guess it's nice to know my biological father loved me, though."

The kids start fighting, then, so attention is diverted. But later, as he checks on his children before going to bed himself, Dean thinks that he was one of the lucky ones. Because he had a loving family growing up; and he has a loving family now. He's never knows anything else. And that isn't something everyone can say.


	66. Seamus Finnigan

Goes without saying, but thank you all so much for my reviews.

66. Seamus

1. From a very small age, he was aware of magic. And he was aware that, while his mother was a witch, his father possessed no magic whatsoever. It didn't seem at all strange to him – until he was seven, he thought that all mothers were witches, and all fathers were muggles. It also seemed normal that his house was magical; and yet there was muggle items scattered around. In the spare bedroom, his father had a portable T.V set up, and Seamus liked watching it with him. They had a muggle telephone, tucked into a corner of the living room. His dad bought him muggle comics and books, which Seamus enjoyed reading as much as the wizard comics and books.

And so Seamus would say he was a half-blood with pride – he liked that he was aware of both worlds, that he could fit into them both.

2. His first sign of magic – when he was about four – was demonstrated on an ugly jumper his maternal grandmother had given him. They were about to go to her house to see her, and his parents decided that he ought to wear it, if just this once, so she could see him in it. Revolted by it – it was a sickly green colour, with random yellow lines, edged in pink – he refused point-blank to where it. And when he realised that his parents were going to make him wear it anyway, he simply glared at the garish heap of wool.

Next moment, it had burst into flames; and within three seconds it was destroyed. His parents were pleased his magic had revealed itself; Seamus was pleased that the monstrosity was gone.

3. He was half-and-half about going to Hogwarts. Because of course he wanted to go to the best school of magic he knew – albeit, it was the only one he knew – but it was a _boarding_ school. And that meant that for months at a time he'd be away from his home, his family. It meant that if he made no new friends, he'd be stuck there, alone and friendless. And what if he turned out to be terrible at magic?

And then he got his letter, and confessed his fears to his parents. The three of them decided he would try it out for one term, and decide then if he wanted to return or not. Knowing that he could walk away if he needed to was like a security blanket to Seamus – and knowing that he wouldn't have to stay if he did something wrong gave him more confidence. (And in the end, he loved the school.)

4. He was nervous on the train, though. Because this was _it_. This was him actually going to Hogwarts, and getting sorted, and actually _being_ there.

And so he walked down the train, not looking for an empty compartment, but actually one that was occupied by a fellow first year. Preferably one by themself. And then he saw Dean, who was obviously his own age, obviously nervous, and he thought that at the very least talking to this boy would take his mind off of everything.

By the time they reached the castle, they were friends. But Seamus never imagined how close they'd grow; how much his best friend would mean to him.

5. He had always been a little...naive, maybe it would be called. Or trusting. There was no term for it Seamus preferred; it was a character flaw, and he knew that. But when the Daily Prophet kept saying that Dumbledore was losing it, and Harry was just attention seeking...well, surely they wouldn't be allowed to print it if it wasn't true? And so while he did his best to convince his mother that Dumbledore and Harry and Hogwarts were perfectly safe, he couldn't help but doubt his friend, his headmaster.

Because while Harry didn't seem like an attention seeker...well, if Voldemort was back, they'd know, wouldn't they? It was just – impossible – it didn't make sense – and his mother didn't believe it – and – and -

And yet despite what he said, what he thought...there were doubts – why would Dumbledore believe whole-heartedly and obviously, despite what everyone said? Why would Harry stick to the story when it was bringing so much trouble?

And then Death Eaters had broken out, and Harry had given an interview. He couldn't help but read it, and found himself suddenly thinking that how could he not of believed this before? How could he have had let the lies, snide comments, and half-truths spin his view so much?

He finished reading the article, looked up at Dean, and bit his lip. "I...Do you think...I was wrong about him, wasn't I?" He sighed. And Dean barely hid the smirk as he nodded.

6. It seemed like he'd barely just accepted that Voldemort really was back, and then it was all so – so real. With the whole ministry admitting they were wrong, and people dying, and Dementors breeding, and Azkaban prisoners practically walking out, and just a complete atmosphere of darkness around everyone. And he was scared. Actually scared – not in the way he had been when younger, when little things had sparked childish fears in him – but actually _scared_. For his dad, himself, his friends...

He'll never, for as long as he lives, though, forget how it felt to open the door to Dean. Because he knew what this meant. Knew this was goodbye. And while, obviously, he wanted him to be safe, he also wanted to know where he was, to know he was still alive, and that was impossible. The fear that overwhelmed him as Dean murmured that he needed help was terrible. Not, of course, that he considered asking Dean to stay.

But hugging his friend and knowing that it might be the last time he ever saw him – alive, at least – and then watching him walk away...there was just such a feeling of hopelessness there. One that he'll never forget.

7. It wasn't easy, checking up on Dean's family. But he'd promised, and so that meant he'd go there as often as possible, check on the spells, let them know what was happening in their world and that there had been no news of Dean yet. He hugged Dean's little sisters when they cried because he hadn't come home, and he awkwardly tried to comfort Mrs. Thomas. It was very difficult; emotionally draining, trying to keep a brave face for them, knowing they were depending on him, their only link to the magical world.

And he was terrified that something would happen to them while he was at Hogwarts – that he'd have failed. So much so that he got his mum to check the spells were still in place, that they were alive, during term time.

8. And then they were there. At Hogwarts – and it was going to be _their_ Hogwarts again, rather than Voldemort's, or the Death Eaters's. And they were fighting for their lives, for their school, for their future. It was terrifying, dramatic, emotional...and yet exciting. He told himself that it shouldn't feel so thrilling, but he couldn't help it. The adrenaline rush, the danger, the pride he had for fighting for the right thing.

And then he and Lavender were on the balcony, fighting. She sent out a jinx that stopped a Death Eater behind him sending his own fatal curse. And before he could even thank her, the balcony was collapsing, and he was falling. He landed heavily, and for a moment couldn't breathe properly. And he was aware – aware but unable to help – of a hot, disgusting something on Lavender behind him. And when Hermione Granger sent the werewolf flying, he crawled over to Lavender, who was barely conscious and bleeding. Bleeding.

They'd always got on well. Dated a little, in their fourth year. So seeing her there, looking close to – to _death_ – was awful.

"You'll be OK." He told her, trying to wipe away the blood. If there wasn't so much blood, it wouldn't be bad. If he could clean the blood away, then it wouldn't be a problem. "You'll be fine." And he scooped her up, struggling to carry her away, to safety, aware that she wasn't conscious.

9. They won – They'd WON! He couldn't believe it – couldn't stop yelling, but wasn't aware of what he was saying. Was hugging anyone he came across, despite not knowing who half of them were. Not that anyone minded. And then he found Lavender, with so many wounds marring her pretty face, and yet wearing a bright smile.

And he realised that he liked her a little more than he'd thought...that maybe he liked her in the same way he had at fourteen. And though she – later, when he awkwardly asked for a date – seemed to think her scars meant he wouldn't like her, he felt they added to her beauty.

Everytime he looked at her, he saw how close they had come to dying. And saw how they'd won, against the odds. And she was beautiful to him; as beautiful as she always been.

10. Years later, he watched his son board the Hogwarts express, fighting the urge to pick him up and run away with him. Because this was his _child_, his little boy, his firstborn, going off to Hogwarts. And despite all the happy memories he has of the place, for him Hogwarts will forever be linked to pain and fear and death in his mind. And so he clings tightly to Lavender's hand, and knows she understands as they watch their son climb aboard, nervously waving.

And even though Riley writes home to say everything is OK and returns safe and sound, he can't shake off the feeling. And it's the same when he watches their daughters leave, one by one.

Because a part of him can't help but think that he's been far too lucky so far – to have survived, to have his friends and his wife survive, to have children he considers perfect. And so surely, _surely_ fate has something terrible in store for him?

"They're all fine." Lavender murmurs, wrapping her still-scarred arms around him, three days after their youngest daughter leaves. "We're all fine."

He wants to believe her. He mostly _does_ believe her. But there's that part of him that just can't believe they really are safe.

(In some ways, he's is as mentally scarred as his wife is physically.)


	67. Parvati Patil

67. Parvati

1. She and Padma were identical. They were born within four minutes of each other – Padma was the oldest. Throughout their first eleven years, one would never be without the other. They shared a room. They often shared clothes. They'd switch places with each other, and sometimes be able to fool even their parents. They knew each other as well as they knew themselves. They'd finish each other's sentences, know when the other was upset, and sometimes even have the same thoughts.

They had their differences, of course. Padma tended to be moodier, and more serious, than Parvati. She was also slightly more shy. They had separate likes and dislikes when it came to food. But they often liked the same clothes, and they were both committed people, who would usually stand up for what they believed in.

2. So when Padma stepped forward to be sorted, it never occurred to Parvati that this would be the thing to separate them. To break the strong bond they had. Because surely, identical twins were bound to go in the same house? It usually ran in families, after all.

And so when Padma, after a few seconds, was sorted in to Ravenclaw, Parvati felt like she, too, had been sorted. And even as she stepped forward to receive the hat, she was thinking, "Ravenclaw isn't too bad. Yes, I'm pretty happy with that..."

And then the sorting had was over her head, and talking. "_Ah. No, I don't think it's Ravenclaw for you...No, not at all. It's definitely – GRYFFINDOR!"_

And she sat there for a moment, stunned. Even as she stood, gave back the hat, and walked on shaking legs over to the Gryffindor table, it didn't sink in. They couldn't be in separate houses. They just couldn't. Sitting down at the table, she looked across the hall and met her sisters eyes, which were wide with shock. Miserable, Parvati looked down at her plate.

3. It wasn't easy, not having her sister there beside her all the time. When she'd been so used to Padma's presence, and now she had barely any lessons with her. They couldn't even eat together, because you weren't supposed to leave your house tables, and even though the older students sometimes did, the younger ones were too scared. It was Neville who found her, one week into term, sat in the common room late at night, crying. Because this wasn't how it was _supposed_ to be. And it felt as though all her hopes for Hogwarts had vanished – and all those people who told her how amazing it would be here had lied – and her sister had betrayed her, going into a different house.

Neville awkwardly tried to comfort her, and she poured her heart out. Even though he was a virtual stranger, even though his attempts at comfort were rather clumsy, even though he was shy and awkward. Because there was something about him that clearly said, "You can trust me."

She felt better, after that night. And, despite him not really having done all that much, she would always have a great amount of affection for him, would always stick up for him, and always talk to him if he was sat on his own and looked lonely.

(And in that last, hellish year of the war, she watched him proudly as he became the man she'd always known he could be.)

4. She had grown up in a wizarding household, grown up hearing Harry Potter's name. And so actually being in his house, actually speaking to him? Well, it was amazing, really. Like meeting a character from your favourite childhood story. And then, four years later, he asked her to the Yule Ball.

She'd been a little worried, actually, because she didn't have a date. There had been a few boys that had asked her, but one of them was a first year (and a lot shorter than she was), one of them was a Hufflepuff sixth year who didn't even know her name, and one of them was from Durmstrang, and she didn't really want to go with someone from another school. So even though it was rather obvious that Harry was asking her out of desperation, she said "yes" straight away. Because he was Harry, who she knew and got along with OK, he was _the_ Harry Potter, and he was a champion. Plus, he knew her name, which was always a plus.

But the night was a bit disappointing really. They danced once, and they barely spoke, and it was just a complete let-down. _The_ Harry Potter wasn't a very attentive date. But she met the Beauxbatons boy (who she kept in touch with until the final year of the war, when things were too hetic for that) and she ended up having an OK-night. And eventually, she could forgive Harry, because it wasn't like she actually fancied him or anything, really.

5. She loved Hogwarts. Every inch of it. Right up until the end of her sixth year.

Now, the good memories of Hogwarts have been pushed to the back of her mind. Now, the happiness she felt there is scarcely remembered. Now, when she thinks of Hogwarts, she thinks of the night Dumbledore died, when the house woke bit by bit, whispering of death and dark marks. Whispering that Voldemort's followers had gotten into the school. And they all sat there, wide awake with their wands out and facing the portrait hole, none knowing what was going on in the rest of the school; none wanting to leave the tower. Eventually, Professor Sprout came to them, and told them that Dumbledore was dead. That Death Eaters had broken in. That they were safe now, and to go to sleep.

Death Eaters in Hogwarts? How could she ever feel safe again?

6. If it isn't that night she remembers, it's the months that followed it. Where no one dared travel the castle alone. Where all hope felt as though it had gone, with Death Eaters as teachers. Where the prefects would take turns to sit in the common room, night after night after night, guarding the portrait hole, just in case. Where she barely slept, listening for the sounds of anything. Where she had her wand in her hand, always, even while she did sleep, just in case. Where the teachers – the proper ones, not _his_ people – would try and keep their hopes up, try to protect them, try to teach them to bring some normality. Where McGonagall would check, every single night, that the students in her house were all safe.

So she can't think of the good times, the happy memories. Not when there's all the dark stuff, all the fear, casting shadows in her mind.

7. She'd always known she'd be there in the final fight. She wouldn't have allowed herself not to be. But still, she had the absolute terror at the thought of _him_ coming there. To them. To fight.

And yet it was instinct. To dodge the curse she sensed behind her. To know when to stun, when to jinx, when to curse. She never expected to stay alive – how could she manage that, when there were so many death eaters, so many injured, and some already dead? – but she was determined she would leave as much damage behind as possible. She would give the rest of them the best possible chance to win.

When their hour's break came, she didn't relax like everyone else. Not because of the bodies or the injured or anything like that. Purely because she didn't trust it. Why would he give them a break? Why?

8. For a moment, when she saw Lavender slumped against a wall in the great hall, she thought – thought Lavender was dead, too. Blood was still down the front of her clothes, and the wounds were still evident on her face, despite Madam Promfrey's work.

So she was so thrilled that Lavender wasn't dead – although she jumped about three feet in the air when, after she'd rushed over in terror, Lavender's eyes flipped open – that she barely noticed the wounds. It wasn't until later – much later, after Harry's "death" when she felt like all hope was lost, and then after Voldemort permanent defeat – that she realised Lavender would be scarred. And then she didn't know what to do for her desperate friend. She spent night after night, forsaking her own feelings, holding her sobbing friend and saying that it was OK, they weren't that bad, everything would be fine, that she was still pretty. But none of it worked.

And so Parvati couldn't help but be a little annoyed that it was Seamus who got through to Lavender, when she had failed.

9. She was a little uncertain about the blind date. She and Dean had always got on fine, and they'd seen each other once in a while, what with Lavender and Seamus being together. But being fixed up with someone? Someone she'd known for years? Well, that was a little strange. And...well, it was _Dean_. How could she _date_ Dean? She expected it to be awkward, a disaster, something she'd have to repress so she didn't die of humiliation.

And instead, it was...well, fun. They had so much history that there was so much to talk about – and he actually asked her how things had been for her, during the war and in the time that had passed since it, which was something no one else had really done. Her parents and sister were just so glad they'd all survived, and Lavender had been so wrapped up with herself and her wounds, so Dean was the first to ask about her. And it was almost two in the morning when they finally realised the time, realised that they really ought to be going home. And when he kissed her goodbye, she knew that this wasn't going to be something she had to repress – but something that she'd do again, and again, and again.

10. She didn't want her children to go to Hogwarts. Not after everything that had happened there. She told Dean this; told her eldest child, when he got his letter. Together they convinced her to give her permission for him to go, but it was one of the hardest things she'd ever done, watching her son board the train. It was hard, too, to spend those months without him. His bed empty, his seat at the table vacant. His absence was obvious, painful, and prompted her to spend hours imagining the danger he could be in, despite the fact that the war had been over for years.

And then it was her daughter's turn. Then her other daughter. Then her younger son and then her youngest boy. It never got easier.


	68. Lucius Malfoy

Been meaning to do this one for a while, but it took me a while to get round to it. Not sure about some of them, but I think it's OK.

Thanks again for all the reviews.

68. Lucius

1. He doesn't remember how exactly he became so enchanted by the dark arts. Doesn't know if he stumbled across a book of dark magic, if he saw someone performing a dark curse, or if that side of magic was described to him, leading to his feelings. Maybe he happened across it on his own; maybe someone whispered to him about it in the dark, a twisted bedtime story; or maybe it was something innate, something he would never have been able to control. All he knows is that for as long as he can remember, he's been captivated by the dark arts, revelling in the dark side of magic.

Nor does he know who told him pure-blood was better. Maybe someone whispered that, too, to the little boy as he drifted to sleep. _You are pure...you are better...remember that, forever._ Maybe that was innate, as well as or instead of his love of the dark arts. But he thinks it was the way he was brought up – that his mother and father told him he was better, placed little Lucius above the lesser wizard-kind in his own mind. All he knows for certain, however, is that he never, for a second, doubted it. Never, for a single moment, wondered if he really _was_ better than half-bloods, mudblood, or muggles.

2. He was terrified of going to Hogwarts. Not just because it was so far away from home, or because he'd be away from his parents for the first time (not that he'd miss them, but he was worried about what would happen to him without his father's protection) but because he had to be in Slytherin. This was the house his entire family had been in. The ones who remained in the family, anyway.

A different house for Lucius would bring shame on the family, would incite his father's anger. And he wanted, more than he feared the shame and anger, wanted to be in Slytherin. And he was terrified that he wouldn't. Not, of course, that he believed himself brave, smart or loyal. But he wanted, needed, to be in Slytherin, and so feared it wouldn't happen.

However, the sorting hat barely touched his head before it made its choice. The fabric lightly brushed his hair, and screamed "Slytherin!" for the whole hall to hear.

He'd never been so relieved in his life. Nor had he ever smiled so smugly.

3. _Defence_ _Against_ the Dark Arts? _Defence? _What kind of – why had no one told him – why would he want to – _Defence_?

He glared at his time table for a little bit longer, then sat back and started to sulk. He didn't want to learn _Defence. _He wanted to learn the real dark arts. What was the point in _defence?_

He sulked for his first few months at Hogwarts over that, thinking it would change something, like his moods so often did at home. No one, however, actually noticed that he was sulking, that he expected the curriculum to change just for him.

But no one had told him they'd be studying _defence_, and due to his interest in the dark arts, his father's knowledge of them – the library at home was simply full of Dark magic books – he'd assumed it would be really taught.

Defence. What good was _defence_?

4. Still, he was a Malfoy, and they were good at appearances. He played the perfect student. Even got himself made prefect. And while he suspected several teacher saw through this, he didn't care. They had no proof.

Nor could they stop him encouraging other, younger students, to be interested in the dark arts.

He liked that. Liked that the Malfoy name brought respect, that their history meant no one would cause trouble for Lucius Malfoy. Liked that the family had piles of gold – that would all be his, one day.

What he didn't like was his father telling him, when he was fifteen, that some of the family gold would have to be steadily donated.

"Connections, Lucius. You'd be amazed at what a handful of coins to the right cause can do." His father told him. "This family has always donated generously – and so must you. Money brings power in many ways."

He sulked over that, too, because he didn't _want_ to have to give the gold away. None of it.

5. He wanted Narcissa for his the second he saw her. Well, maybe not the second he saw her – they were in the same house, and she was only a few years younger than him, so he probably saw her around a few times. But it was the second he noticed her, at least. She was obviously a pure-blood. She was extremely pretty.

And she would be his, he decided. And Lucius Malfoy was one of those people who always got what he wanted.

And he did, he realised after a few months, love her. Actually love her. But that wasn't the reason he married her. The love was just a nice bonus – he married her because she was perfect, and she was a Black. A respected family.

6. Lord Voldemort represented everything good about the dark arts, everything Lucius loved about them. He was amazed by this – this man – entranced by his power. Lord Voldemort was willing to change what needed to be changed – to purify their race, to rule over the muggles like they ought to. Lord Voldemort was the future, and Lucius was determined to join him.

And he was let into the inner circle. Him! Given power...Given respect...

And if the Dark Lord was a little...irrational sometimes, and if Lucius was sometimes afraid of him, then it was fine. If he knew the Dark Lord would kill him without a second thought...well, he'd just have to hope that didn't happen.

(If he sometimes looked into those scarlet eyes and was overwhelmed by fear...well, he could deal with it.)

7. One son was all he wanted. Narcissa, she wanted multiple children, he knew. At least two, she murmured one night.

But one son was all that was allowed, and Lucius didn't want daughters. Didn't like little girls. Didn't much like children of any gender, really, but a man wants a son, a heir, and he was determined that he'd get one, first try. If they had have ended up with a girl, she would have been easy to ignore, of course. Their daughter would be as beautiful as Narcissa, and easy to marry off. So it didn't trouble him overmuch.

But one son was what they got. And even if Narcissa was slightly disappointed, even if she sometimes murmured that maybe they could risk it, that they was a good chance of getting a girl, and so what if they got another son, he wouldn't change his mind.

(And he knew that he was lucky she loved him – had she not have married for love, she would have taken his son and left after his blunt refusal to grant her only wish.)

8. He saw, the moment Draco was born, the love and amazement that sparkled in her eyes. So much so that she let him name their son, too enthralled in him to think about it right then. And then she looked up at him, and made him swear something he knew he couldn't really promise.

"I promise." He said solemnly, and she accepted his word without doubt, something that caused a pang of guilt, even then. After the Dark Lord disappeared, he realised that he could actually keep that promise, actually...

Instead, when the Dark Lord returned – which, he couldn't deny he was rather pleased about, if somewhat nervous – he got himself put in Azkaban, leaving his wife and son unprotected. He let his son take his place as a Death Eater, take on a dangerous mission that he didn't believe he could survive. And then, _then_, he moved the Dark Lord into his home. Their home.

To this day, he doesn't understand why Narcissa stayed with him. Every night, he fell asleep terrified that when he woke, she would have taken Draco and ran. And he wouldn't have blamed her if she had.

9. He remembers – and probably always will – the terror of that night. Many assume that the Death Eaters were unafraid that night – and it is true that some of them were – but a lot of them had had enough experience with the Order of the Phoenix to know that there would be losses tonight, on their side. Lucius was terrified. He didn't even have a wand, and nor did Narcissa, after she'd given it to a reluctant Draco. And here they were, exposed, at the Dark Lord's mercy, with Draco nowhere to be found. He was somewhere in the castle...somewhere...

When Harry Potter lay on the ground, apparently dead, he watched Narcissa stumbled forward to check on him. He rejoiced with the others at her proclamation that he was dead – a dead Harry Potter meant a happy Dark Lord – but when she turned back and met his eyes, he knew he was lying. And as they started back towards the castle she confirmed this with a few whispered words; "_Draco is alive, in the castle._"

And then they were in the middle of a fight, and this time they weren't lurking in the shadows, trying to stay safe while they waiting for their son. This time they were running through the battle, shrieking for Draco, uncaring if they were hit.

And when they found him, he watched his sobbing wife grip their son tightly, watching Draco hug her back, and realised, for the first time, something he suspected Narcissa had known all along – Draco had not been ready for any of this. Draco was still, at heart, a terrified little boy.

10. He approved of Astoria. She came from a good family, a good background, and she could stand up for herself without being too obnoxious. He approved of their wedding, their home, and their son – though he knew Narcissa had wished for more grandchildren, to make up for the lack of children she had herself. Scorpius – though he lacked some of the values Lucius couldn't help but still hold – was a fine boy.

And then – _then_ – he got together with _Harry Potter's daughter._ Harry Potter's daughter! Of all the people – the child of a half-blood, the offspring of a Weasley and _Potter_ – a mouthy girl with no respect for him, Lucius, and no elegance or grace! He couldn't believe it, and sulked for weeks, despite the fact that a man of his age should have long since out grown sulking.

He held on to the notion that it would at least not last – but then his asinine grandson was presenting he with a ring, and – and actually marrying the girl!

And if Lucius had needed any more proof, after the wedding, that Lily Luna Potter (he would not refer to her as "Potter-Malfoy" despite it being her name) was not good enough for his grandson, it was the fact that she went on to have three children. Three! Two of who were girls! (All of which possessed the hyphenated surname, which Lucius considered a personal insult. If she had to bear that many children, she should at least give them the proper Malfoy name, rather than mar it with her own.)

He puts up with her, but still sort of hopes that his grandson will come to his senses. And he will never – though Narcissa suspects – admit that he does hold affection for his great-grandchildren, even the girls.


	69. Colin Creevey

Thanks again for all my reviews. And Crystal Watson, Lily's other granddad is Arthur Weasley, which is who it means.

69. Colin

1. He always, always believed in magic. Colin was the kind of boy who was devastated upon finding out Santa Claus wasn't real. The kind who was upset at the tooth fairy's non-existence. The kind who always made a wish on the first star he saw, who blew dandelions and eyelashes and candles and made wishes. The kind who believed in unicorns, dragons, fairies, goblins and any other supposedly mythical creature he heard of. Even when the other kids at school would tell him he was too old to believe in magic, Colin insisted it was real. He could never explain just why he believed it, but he always did – it was something he never doubted, and, in those few months when he felt nervous about starting his the secondary school he wouldn't end up going to, he clung to his believes like a security blanket.

Believing in magic made him feel safe. After all, magic wouldn't be magical if it hurt people.

2. The first time he performed magic of his own, he wasn't aware of what it really was. He thought it was a funny trick, that flower growing taller and taller the more he stared at it. And though he knew his father was confused by it, and Dennis was a little afraid of it, Colin didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary. He was almost seven, and just assumed some plants grew that way.

And when his favourite white t-shirt came out of the washing machine decidedly pink, he thought it just gradually turned red because it was drying, not because red was his current favourite colour and much preferred to pink.

And, at ten, when he knocked over the vase his mum had told him to be _very_ careful around, just because he thought he heard it smash didn't mean there was anything strange about it being in one piece when he looked at it – he'd obviously been mistaken in hearing it shatter.

3. And then a serious looking woman came to the door, and told him that he was a wizard. And while his first reaction was doubt, he remembered all those events, and more, and it all made sense. Even if his father did look set to throw the woman – witch – out of the house.

But Colin, reading his letter over and over, was smiling widely. He was a wizard. He had magic! He was going off to a real magic school to learn real magic and be a proper wizard.

In his excitement, his parents's doubts were lost, and they reluctantly agreed to accept his place at the magic school. And it was, Colin thought that night as he lay in bed, the best thing that ever happened to him.

4. He sat on the train, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open, while the other boy told him all about You-Know-Who and Harry Potter.

Colin wasn't sure whether to believe it or not. Because according to this, magic hurt people, and that was hard to believe. Magic was something amazing and good. How could anyone use magic against others, to go so far as to kill?

"But he's dead now." The other boy added. "All thanks to Harry Potter."

And so he became fascinated by Harry Potter, and never examined the possibility that Voldemort wasn't actually dead.

5. Maybe he should have been scared. Everyone was whispering that Slytherin's monster killed muggle-borns. And Colin was muggle-born. But no one had yet been attacked, and Colin felt no fear as he snuck up to the hospital wing. A little nervous, yes, because he knew he wasn't allowed to be out of bed at this time. But not afraid.

And then he saw the snake. The huge snake. And, as his jaw dropped, he lifted up his camera – he'd been hoping for another picture with Harry – and moved his finger to the button, wondering if this was Slytherin's monster – if he was going to get a picture of Slytherin's monster – and then the snake looked at him, it's bright yellow eyes fixed on his.

The next thing he knew, it was many months later, and he was waking in the hospital wing. He may have been safe then, the snake destroyed, but it took him a little while to get over that. How could he have lost so many months of his life? Come so close to death, without even realising? Missed most of his first year at magic school?

6. He had, since he first started at Hogwarts, carefully watched his brother for any signs of magic. It was, he'd been told, about a fifty-fifty chance that his brother would also be magic; maybe a little less. But Colin was desperate for Dennis to join him at school, and scrutinised any event that happened around him. He saw a few little things – and remembered more, too, from when they were younger – but was afraid that he wasn't really seeing magic – that he wanted it so bad he was imagining things that weren't really there. So, when Dennis, a few days after his eleventh birthday, asked if he, too, was a wizard, Colin hesitated, then shrugged, and said they'd have to wait and see. So as the summer started and progressed, both brothers waited nervously.

And finally, an owl soared through the window with Dennis's name on it, inviting him to Hogwarts. The brothers screamed themselves hoarse, jumping up and down, and didn't calm down for weeks. It was like experiencing it all over again – first going to Diagon Alley, first buying a wand – Dennis's chose him quicker than Colin's had – first buying all his books and robes and everything. First climbing aboard the train, first watching the city fall behind them as they travelled closer and closer.

And feeling nervous at the sorting. Because while he'd assured his brother that it didn't matter what house he was in, that they'd still be brothers and still see each other all the time, he was worried about what would happen if Dennis was in another house. What if he was in Slytherin? The two houses didn't get along on principle – would the brothers turn against each other? It happened – families fell apart all the time.

But he needn't have worried. Dennis was soon sitting beside him, soaking wet and whispering excitedly about falling in the lake. And Hogwarts was so much better with Dennis there, so much more fun, so much more of a home. It had been difficult, previously, to be away from home so long, not seeing his brother.

7. He remembered thinking, when first hearing about the Triwizard Tournament, that Harry should be their champion. It was actually Dennis who, when he shared this belief, tilted his head and said, "But he's not seventeen yet, is he?" Colin was sure, though, that they'd bend the rules a little for Harry Potter. It was _the _Harry Potter, after all, and they were bound to let him enter. So he was surprised when they didn't...but unsurprised when Harry's name came out anyway. While everyone else seemed to think Harry had conned the goblet – and only a small handful of people believed he was actually innocent – Colin thought the teachers had just secretly let him enter. Or maybe Dumbledore himself had, and it was just a secret between the two of them. Either way, he was sure that Harry had just been allowed in – of course they wanted Harry Potter as their champion, and Harry was _bound _to win.

(And he was, he told his brother later, right in a way. It had been a teacher to enter Harry, and Harry had won.)

8. He didn't understand it. It just didn't make sense – they said he was dead, gone forever – but Harry wouldn't _lie_ about it, so it was obviously true...but how could You-Know-Who be back? It felt like the world he loved – the world that was his, now – had betrayed him somehow. There were mutterings – from the believers, at least – about last time, about the deaths and fear and horror. And Colin suddenly found himself – for the first time – wondering if it would not be better if he was still a muggle? Or if his brother, at least, was. If they'd be safer, were they not magical. He was scared.

So when Hermione Granger told him they were setting up a group learning defence lessons, and holding a meeting about it in Hogsmeade, he agreed instantly, and even snuck Dennis along, too, despite him being too young to go into the village. His little brother's size was an advantage, there. But he was determined that they'd both learn to defend themselves, because he was sure they'd one day need to.

9. It was horrible. Dennis looked up at him anxiously as Colin threw the latest prophet across the room, angry, upset, and scared.

"We can't go back, can we?" He said quietly, and Colin shook his head. There was no chance of him taking his brother to the ministry, no chance of them being able to return to Hogwarts. Instead, they had to hide. The Order of the Phoenix, Colin learned, were hiding as many muggle born students as they could. It meant Colin and his family had to leave their home. It was Professor McGonagall who came to Colin, who took them to another place, and cast protective spells around them. And yet he still didn't feel safe. He was getting messages from Hogwarts, so he was up-to-date with everything going on in his world, but it wasn't the same. And it felt...well, hiding away like that shamed him somewhat. What kind of Gryffindor – what kind of wizard – or even what kind of man – hid away like that, when he ought to be out fighting? He grew more and more annoyed with himself – and then, suddenly, he had the message that Harry and the others were at Hogwarts, and they were taking the castle back. He and Dennis left without a thought.

10. Fighting the Carrows and Snape was one thing. It was dangerous, yes, but unlikely to result in death. But then Harry was saying _he _was on his way, and that was completely different. Voldemort, bringing all his Death Eaters?

"You have to go." He told Dennis, who instantly opened his mouth to protest. "No." He said quickly. "You have to go, they won't let you stay anyway. You're too young, Dennis, and I won't let you fight, not when You-Know-Who is here. Please – just go home."

"They won't let you fight, either. You're still under-age." Dennis said stubbornly.

"Maybe. If they send me back, I'll see you at home. But please – just go." He was lying, of course, and they both knew it. Someone would have to throw Colin home by force for him to leave. But Dennis pretended to believe, and the brothers hugged goodbye. And it was easy to stay, when he should have left.

And everything kicked off. It wasn't arrogance that had him joining the fight. Maybe it was bravery, maybe just a strong sense of right and wrong. But it never occurred to him – not seriously – that he might die. He was too young for that, surely? Too insignificant for a Death Eater to kill him off? No, he'd help win, and then return home to his brother and parents...

The curse caught him in the back. He never saw it coming, never felt it, and was dead before he knew it. That would, later, be a comfort to his brother and parents – that Colin had not been scared, or upset, or aware of his end. It would be a comfort that he'd taken out several Death Eaters by that point, that he'd survived for a large portion of the battle.

He was brave, his family would tell each other. He did what he had to, the only thing he'd have let himself do. He'd protected his brother, fought for what he'd believed in, and ultimately paid the biggest price for it, the price he was willing to pay. It would all be a comfort.

But his family was damaged, broken, and would never be the same again.


	70. Mrs Granger

Well Hermione's parents were requested a few times before, but I'll admit I didn't really plan on doing them, thinking I wouldn't be able to - and then 5/6 came to me, and I had to get this written. Hermione's dad is next.

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed, they mean the world to me.

70. Mrs Granger

1. No one ever told her stories of magic and fairies and happily-ever-afters. She was never told to wish upon stars or birthday candles. Her father was a teacher, and encouraged her to read educational books rather than stories. To learn, rather than daydream. It was a good philosophy, she supposed, but by the time she was grown up she couldn't help but feel she'd missed out on a piece of her childhood – that she ought to have had the chance to hear stories and daydream and just be a silly little girl. She should have been immature, childish, and not have to act like a grown up at such a young age.

At fifteen, as she was struggling to read a book in ancient Greek that her father recommended on the grounds of "widening her horizons", she swore that when she had kids of her own, she wasn't going to pressurise them. She wasn't going to make them learn four languages, wasn't going to make them read Shakespeare instead of fairy tales, wasn't going to make them grow up too fast.

(That's the worst thing, for her, about Hermione's war. It made her little girl grow up faster than she'd wanted.)

2. She never could quite explain why she got into dentistry. She had a vague interest in it, but if she's honest it isn't something she would have considered herself, if her father had not suggested it. But he'd always been able to make her feel like she should do the things he suggested, to when he put it forward as a viable career, she agreed to think about it.

It seemed as though the next thing she knew, she was starting training, and she was hardly aware of even wanting to.

3. And then she met her husband, and for the first time since she qualified, she was pleased she was a dentist. He was perfect for her. Just as smart as she was, and just as serious – she didn't like those sort of people who seemed to find everything a joke – and he was a dentist, too. They hit it off straight away, and after their first date she was sure he would be the person she'd marry. For sure. He seemed to feel the same way, and within a few months they were engaged.

They had it all planned. They were going to be engaged for eight months exactly while they planned the wedding in minute detail. Nothing was going to be left to chance on that front – they were both the kind of people who needed everything around them to be organised and controlled. They were going to have a year and a half of just being married, sorting out their house and getting used to husband and wife – though neither believed that things could really change _that_ much – and then they were going to have a baby.

Their child would go to the best nursery around, and then to private schools, to ensure that she got the best education possible. (Though, of course, she wasn't going to be pushed, but allowed to dream and be and child and be told fairy tales.) Then, when their first baby was four, they were going to have another child, who would be educated the same way as the first. They had their lives planned, they had all their child-rearing ideas ready, and nothing could go wrong.

4. Only it did. For a start, within the first four months of marriage she thought they were going to end up splitting. They argued about _everything_, and there were nights when they wouldn't even speak to each other. And they'd expected everything to be perfect and it just _wasn't._

But they got through it, and after a few months they were stronger than ever. And then came the time when they had to start trying for a baby. They never considered that wouldn't go according to plan – but then passed the time when they were supposed to have conceived; and they hadn't. Then came the time they'd planned for their child to be born; and still, they weren't pregnant. And the strain was difficult, and having a baby became almost like an obsession, and then, suddenly, when they'd given up all hope – she was pregnant! Actually, really, finally pregnant, and it was the best news, the best feeling, and she didn't think she'd ever stop smiling.

They chose the name Hermione because it was different. Special, like their daughter. It also showed everyone how smart they were, to come up with such a name. And it fit their perfect daughter. Suddenly it didn't matter that Hermione had arrived later than planned, and all the months of heartbreak and self-doubt and arguing weren't important. This was all that mattered, this child in her arms.

5. The time passed uneventfully. It was perfectly normal; and then came Hermione's third birthday, and they realised that if they were to have another child by her forth, they really ought to start trying now. She was terrified that it would take as long as last time – that they'd have to go through it all again, that they wouldn't have another child until Hermione was six and the age-gap would be so big they'd never get along and once they were old enough to leave home they would even keep in touch and – and – and none of her worries mattered, because, after only a few months, they were expecting. It felt like they'd been lucky this time, felt like all their plans – if set back by a couple of years – were settled again.

And then, as she entered her twelve week, as they were discussing how to tell Hermione, and she was secretly thinking of baby names, she felt a strange, horrifying pain. At first, she ignored it, telling herself it was nothing. And then it came again and she knew – just somehow knew – what was happening. And she was sobbing as they rushed to hospital, leaving Hermione with a neighbour, and all she was aware of was that she was _bleeding._ And she knew what that meant – but it couldn't be – God, no...She tried to keep that baby, by sheer force of will. Tried her hardest hold it where it was, telling herself that she couldn't lose their baby – things like that didn't happen to people like her, it was always someone else...

6. But then the doctor was shaking his head and telling them he was very sorry but they'd lost their child. "One of those things" he said by way of explanation, assuring them that there was no reason why they couldn't go on to have another, healthy, child. She lived in a daze for several weeks, not thinking or feeling, because it hurt to do so. She'd lost their child, their baby, their much wanted addition to their family. And none of her friends knew what to say to her, her husband didn't know how to comfort her, and her daughter didn't understand. She made the hospital find out the sex of her lost child - a girl - and tormented herself with thoughts of the daughter she would have had. She blamed herself, and couldn't seem to forgive herself.

It was Hermione who brought her out of the daze, in the end. She climbed onto her lap, her favourite story book clutched in her hand, and the simple act reminded her that she still had one daughter, had a child, and all was not lost, after all.

But she could never, despite the doctors assurances and her husband's attempts to talk her round, try for a child again. She couldn't risk it, and some part of her felt that trying for another child would be like replacing the one she'd lost, and didn't want to do that. So Hermione would have to remain an only child, despite her asking for a sibling until she was ten. And she could never bring herself to explain how close Hermione had come to having a little sister.

7. She'd known there was something a little...unusual about Hermione, but of course it had never occurred to her that she could be a witch. So she had half a mind to throw Professor McGonagall out when she came to explain – because it just didn't seem realistic. But Hermione was all excited, going on about strange events that could have, now she thought about it, been magic.

It was hard to get used to, once she believed. Her little girl, going off to a school so far away? Her little girl, learning magic and belonging to some secret world? How did they know it wasn't some trick, some kind of elaborate abduction? Even if it was real, how did they know it was _safe_?

But Hermione talked them round, and all too soon they were hugging her goodbye, making her promise to write as often as possible, and assuring her that if she wanted to come home they pick her up straight away.

The letters came often, sometimes accompanied by a marked piece of homework. And she seemed happy, seemed to be having the time of her life. But it didn't slip their attention that for the first two months there was no mention of friends. Not one. And they were worried that their daughter was lonely – maybe even being bullied – and constantly reminding her, in their own letters, that she could come home any time. It wasn't until the beginning of November that Hermione finally mentioned friends, talking about how a troll had gotten into the castle – a _troll_! – and how she and her "two friends, Harry and Ron" had fought it. And then the letters included them, and when Hermione finally came home from Hogwarts, she wouldn't stop talking about them.

And it was only then that she truly accepted that her daughter was a witch; because if Hermione was happy with what she was and the world she was in, they could be happy about it, too.

8. She's been scared several times, during her daughter's school career. There was Hermione's second year, where she was "petrified" and no one seemed to explain it fully enough, and they didn't want to ask questions for fear of seeming stupid. That terrified her, because despite the assurances that she was fine, she didn't know if she could really believe it.

Then there was the end of Hermione's fourth year. When they met her at the station, they noticed a change immediately. There was something in her eyes, something on her face, that told her that something had happened, even as she smiled and hugged them in greeting. And then when they got home, Hermione quietly explained that "You-Know-Who" had returned. They knew all about the story, all about Harry, and they both knew this was bad. She remembers the fear - even as Hermione assured her that it would all work out and there wasn't much danger - because she _couldn't_ lose Hermione too. And she was the one who tried to talk their daughter out of going to "headquarters" during the summer; she tried to talk her out of returning there, too, at Christmas. She didn't even want her to return to school, with this dark wizard on the loose.

But her daughter refused to remain behind, and even while she wished Hermione would stay safely at home, she admired her courage, and was proud of her for it.

Then, at the end of her fifth and sixth years, Hermione came home with tales of battles, life-threatening fights, and even the headmaster's death.

And she knew, then, that everything was getting worse in Hermione's world, even more than she was telling them.

9. But the worst of all was, right after she explained about the death, Hermione sitting them down and explaining that she was going with Harry and Ron to try and end the war, to defeat Voldemort. She'd have to leave soon, she said, and she was going to do some magic that would hide them safely. And when asked, Hermione said she wasn't going to die; but she knew she was lying, could see it in her daughters eyes.

She still remembers those months when she was someone else, though they're somewhat blurry. She remembers how empty life felt, remembers the constant feeling she'd forgotten something. And remembers, when Hermione finally turned up and pointed her wand with little explanation, the slight recognition triggering. And how she burst into tears when she remembered who she really was, who her daughter was, because she couldn't believe she'd actually forgotten her child.

And she'll never forget the overwhelming relief that her daughter had lived, had made it back to them.

10. She was terrified when Hermione announced she was pregnant. She herself had only a few friends, and none had been pregnant since before her miscarriage, nor had anyone in her family – her daughter's was the first pregnancy she'd experienced since losing her own baby, and it seemed to bring it all back. Hermione seemed to sense her less-than-enthusiastic reaction, and was upset; and so she had to do the thing she'd never thought she would, and tell her daughter about it. She struggled, and didn't once say the word "miscarriage" but thankfully Hermione guessed what had happened before she'd had to say too much. And then Hermione was crying, and so was she, and it was one of the worst things she'd ever done, and yet one of the best – because though it hurt, it made it somewhat easier afterwards. She had always used the date of her miscarriage as some kind of birth/death day for her unborn daughter, remembering her, usually getting upset. From that moment on, Hermione joined her in that ritual.

And then she was holding her granddaughter, and Hermione was tentatively saying that they were calling her Rose. And though she'd expected to feel pained, she didn't. Instead, she was delirious with happiness – her granddaughter, healthy and alive.

Hermione's second pregnancy was the worst, though. It was far too similar, in her mind, though Rose was younger than Hermione had been on her own second pregnancy. But she couldn't help but think, she'd had a daughter first, and then lost her second. And what if Hermione, who'd had a daughter first, lost _her_ second...And then, she was holding her grandson, also healthy and alive. And there were no parallels any more – this was a boy, this infant had lived, and this had brought two happy parents and an unimpressed child, rather that two broken parents and a confused child.

And having her grandchildren around her somewhat filled up the hole her miscarriage had left.


	71. Mr Granger

Sorry to anyone who reads Child of War, because I've been really neglecting it lately. I have most of a chapter done, but I'm so unbelievably blocked on it right now. Hopefully will be able to finish it soon.

And now back to this. Thanks again for reviews, and for sticking with this so long – I kinda though people would stop reading it after a while, what with so many chapters, so thanks for staying with me. Not sure if this one is too much like the last one...I'm sorry if it is, but this is just the way it came out.

71. Mr Granger

1. He was never a creative child. At school, when asked to write stories or draw pictures, he'd sit there for a long while, trying to think of something and unable to. Often he'd end up copying someone else's idea, just because he'd spent so long doing nothing and didn't want to get into trouble. Of course, he'd sometimes get into trouble anyway, when it was obvious he'd copied, but after a few years he learned to make some minor differences, convincing teachers it was all his own idea.

Still, during his childhood he often wished he'd been blessed with an imagination. It wasn't like he cared about being a talented artist or writer, but he'd like to have some creativity. He even wondered, for a while, if there was something _wrong_ with him, lacking any imagination.

(It also meant he was a very bad liar, being unable to come up with _anything_ that wasn't the truth. And though he knew lying was bad, he'd still have liked to be able to at some points in his childhood, rather than getting into trouble.)

2. He liked rules. He wasn't perfect, and he broke a few of them in his younger years, but he liked rules. He was one of those children who would tell tales on anyone who did something they weren't supposed to, and – although he never really noticed it – he was rather disliked because of it. As he grew older, he stuck to the rules completely, and was disliked further.

He was considered the teacher's pet, but didn't care – and in the end he finished school with top grades...so maybe years of not being liked, of having few friends and so little distraction, worked out best for him in the long run.

3. He doesn't know when he first decided to be a dentist. Maybe as a child, when he realised others were afraid of dentists and he was not. Maybe something else entirely. But he had, for as long as he could remembered, replied to the "what do you want to be when you grow up?" question with "a dentist" without hesitation. And it never changed; he never wanted it to, even when he got strange looks from people when expressing this desire.

And so a dentist he became. And a good one, too, if he did say so himself. He never regretted it, never wanted to change his profession.

If he was a man who believed in fate, (which he, in fact, was not) he may have thought he was meant to be a dentist in order to meet his wife.

4. Some may have called them control freaks (some actually did so) but he and his wife were never the sort to leave anything to chance. And it seemed perfectly normal – in fact, sensible – to plan out their future. And at first, everything went as it should. They were engaged the right amount of time, had their wedding – planned to every last detail – and then they waited the right amount of time to start trying for a baby...And that's where it started to go wrong. The worst of it was, with all the failures, the false alarms, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something wrong with him or his wife. He wasn't the kind of man to believe that things happened without a cause – so it made sense to him to think something was _wrong_.

And then, finally, later than they'd planned, they were _pregnant_. And though he couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that their daughter hadn't arrived when she was supposed to, he was thrilled all the same by her.

5. Hermione, however, didn't do what she was supposed to. She was born later than she was planned for. And while she was the perfect student, getting perfect grades, strange things seemed to happen around her, things that no one could explain. And then, when she was due to start at a private high school, that woman turned up – and their daughter, their much loved, much longed for, daughter was offered a place at a _magic_ school. It was difficult for him to believe in such a place, that his daughter could have such powers, that this could really be happening. And he was scared of losing Hermione.

Still, he'd always struggled to say no to her, and before they knew it they were hugging her goodbye and sending her off into the unknown.

(He still remembers how to felt when they were told she'd been petrified. They were assured it wasn't life-threatening, and that she'd be cured soon, but it was horrifying. During the holidays between her second and third year, they had several long talks about whether or not she should return to Hogwarts.)

6. He struggled to understand the miscarriage. They hadn't planned for it – hadn't even considered it – and it just wasn't supposed to happen. Worse, there was no apparent cause.

His wife seemed so lost, and he had no idea how to pull her out of it. No idea how to fix it for her. And he felt guilty, too, because while she was lost in grief, he felt disappointment more than anything...but while to her it had been a child, a daughter, that they'd lost, to him it was more like losing an opportunity – they could have had a child, but hadn't. It was a lost chance, not a lost child.

Eventually, his wife pulled out of her depression, and he thought they could have another child. But instead, she seemed terrified by the thought of it, and refused.

They'd planned to have two. And it took him a long while to accept that their plans had changed.

7. Hermione had told them all about Harry Potter – incidentally, one of her best friends – and Lord Voldemort. She'd told them he wasn't really dead, too, but they'd never considered that this person – who he wasn't really sure he believe was real – would even come back.

Yet there was his daughter, calmly explaining that this person was back, that her world was going to war, but they were not to worry because it was going to be OK. And there was nothing but fear in her eyes. She continued that she was going to the headquarters of "the Order of the Phoenix" to try and help, and that they were not to worry.

And, of course, they worried.

8. He knew she was lying. Hermione trained her wand on them, and assured them she wouldn't be killed. He knew she was lying, that she could be dead, that she may never return to them.

And yet he didn't try to stop her. He'd think of that, later, when his memory was restored. He knew she was lying, knew she could die, and yet because he didn't think he'd be able to talk her out of it, he didn't try.

It's stayed with him, that guilt. If something had happened to his daughter, it would practically be his fault, for letting her go off like that. Parents were, after all, supposed to protect their children - and he _hadn't,_ he'd just let her go off and risk her life. And if she had have died, they would never even have known, never even remembered that they had a daughter, let alone know that she had died. And that is the one thing he will always regret – that he just stood by and let her put her life at risk.

9. He was a little...dissatisfied by his daughter's choice in husband. Ron Weasley was an awkward, moody, rather impolite boy of average intelligence, he told his wife after they first met him. He wasn't anywhere near good enough for Hermione.

His wife simply smiled, and said the boy was "charming in his own way" and that he made Hermione happy. And while he agreed that Hermione was happy – on her wedding day, she was positively glowing – he remained of this opinion until the day his granddaughter was settled into his arms.

And then he had to admit that little Rosie was perfect, and that if she had a different father she would be completely different. So while he and Ron may never be best friends – though they do get along reasonably well – he's accepted that Ron is a decent husband and father, and that Hermione could have done worse.

(He still maintains, of course, that Hermione could have married someone so much better - though Ron did rather redeem himself by agreeing with this when he overheard Mr Granger saying so.)

10. It never bothered him that he was a muggle, until his grandchildren were old enough to understand the difference. He'd never been ashamed of it, until the kids knew, and then he worried that they'd think less of them because they lacked magic. He worried that the grandkids would favour their paternal grandparents. For a while, he analysed Rose and Hugo's tones when they spoke to him and his wife, searching for any sign that their considered he and his wife lesser.

But he never found any. And when he admitted his fears to Hermione, she seemed rather insulted, and asked him if he thought she was a good parent.

"Of course." He replied.

"Then stop thinking that way." She replied, somewhat sharply. "Because I don't bring my children up to think like that."

She didn't seem satisfied until he'd apologised.


	72. Pansy Parkinson

Not my best work, and I'm not sure how well it works, but it was requested and I figured I should do it. Not sure how many more chapters there will be - I was hoping to get to 100, but I'm not sure I'll have enough characters for that.

Thanks again for reviewing.

72. Pansy

1. Until she was seven years and eight months old, she showed no sign of magic. Not one. Her parents were terrified that they'd birthed a squib, and were, from the age of about four, careful to keep her firmly in the background – no one outside the immediate family paid much attention to her, by her parents' design, lest they discover their shameful secret.

On her seventh birthday, her tearful mother begged her to perform some kind of magic – any magic. And Pansy tried with all her might, but was unable to. She still remembers her parents' stricken looks – amongst the pure-blood pride families, a squib was as bad as a muggle-born – and how they franticly discussed what to do with her. Could they keep her at home, pretend to be home-schooling her? Her father reasoned that they could use the excuse that she was a girl, more fragile than her elder brothers, who all attended Hogwarts, and that they kept her at home for her protection.

Or they could send her away, to a distant family member, and make excuses. Or they could even send her away and pretend she was dead, her mother added, while her father nodded in agreement.

Thankfully, she ended up setting a cabinet on fire, and all plans were redundant. But she never forgot how easily her parents would have discarded her, how disposable she was to them.

2. She couldn't wait to go off to Hogwarts. Because her brothers had been there, and though they'd never made it out to be that great a place, they had some pretty good stories about it, when they could be bothered with their little sister. And because it seemed like she wouldn't be a proper witch until she went there – and that everyone who went to Hogwarts seemed to have loved it.

So she counted down the days until she could board the train, and waited excitedly for them to finally reach Hogsmeade.

And then to the castle. She hadn't expected it to be that interesting to look at – when people said it was a castle she assumed it was dark and grey and cold.

But Hogwarts was _magnificent_. Huge and impressive and bright and warm and just amazing. She quickly hid her amazement, of course, and never mentioned it, to anyone, but she was extremely impressed.

3. She was, after those years of fearing she was a squib, paranoid about her magical ability. After all, if it had taken so long for her to perform any kind of magic, then she couldn't be very good at it, could she?

And she found it rather difficult. Maybe because she expected to, maybe because she wasn't very good, but she was almost as bad as Neville Longbottom in those first few years, though she managed to hide it by staying a few steps behind everyone else so she could copy what they were doing. Though she was OK at remembering things for written exams, practical ones terrified her – that feeling of not being skilled enough made everything worse. Still, she managed to pass most things, if not with the best grades.

4. Draco Malfoy was...well, Draco Malfoy. He was, in her opinion, very good looking, and his family was so well-respected. She found him smart and funny and...well...she liked him a lot, from the first moment she saw him. And though he, at first, had little time for her, the more she doted on him, the more he seemed to appreciate her. The more she thought that he might like her...in the same way she liked him.

And then there was the Yule Ball. And she was nervous, because she wanted to go with Draco, and he could pick practically any girl in Slytherin, she was sure. So, after a few days of hoping he'd ask her, she casually brought up the ball during the common room, as their group sat around.

"Waste of time." Draco sneered. "Who'd want to mess about dressing up and dancing? Completely pointless."

"Still," she said, somewhat desperate, "we ought to go – make sure Slytherin are – are properly represented and – and prove that we're better than Gryffindors..." She was clutching at straws, but fortunately others seemed to agree. Draco rolled his eyes, shrugged, and glanced around looking bored. Finally, he looked at her. "We'll go together then." He said flatly. "Me and you."

He obviously wasn't enthusiastic about it, and she was aware he'd looked for someone better before asking her – but she was still going with him, and that was all that mattered to her.

5. She wasn't scared, exactly, when Voldemort returned. Just uncertain. She was pure-blood, after all, and she had relatives who were Death Eaters, some in Azkaban, some not. But she just wasn't sure what was going to happen now, wasn't sure how she was supposed to behave. Was she supposed to talk about him? Was she supposed to pretend not to know anything? Was she supposed to act scared of him, or just thrilled by his existence?

She didn't know, and it made her nervous. But at least she knew she was safe.

And then Draco was saying how he had something to do something - for _him_ – and she felt a little afraid. For Draco. Draco who she loved – actually loved – working for Voldemort – which was dangerous, after all...And she wasn't sure, not completely a hundred percent sure, that Voldemort was all that good for the world.

6. Maybe it was stupid. Or naive. But she was a little afraid, and she had only been awake for a few minutes, and, well, it made sense to her that when Voldemort asked for Harry Potter, they should just give him to him – and she thought her suggestion would be followed.

So when the other houses stood and faced them, when McGonagall sent her out first, she was a very humiliated, and annoyed. And somewhat confused – why would they all be willing to die for one stupid boy?

7. She went home. She didn't hang around the village to see what happened. She didn't make sure her friends got out safely. She expected Voldemort to win, many to die, and for Hogwarts to reopen in a few days. In some ways, Pansy was a naive little girl, and so she went home thinking that nothing of considerable importance would happen that night.

In the end, that night changed everything. Voldemort was defeated, the anti-muggle-born laws were obliterated, the ministry was changed, Hogwarts stayed closed for months while a lot of it was rebuilt.

She was, at least, right about many dying. Though she knew some of the dead – none were friends, as the Slytherins had all left, but she knew them – she never attended the annual memorial service. Ever. Partly because she didn't think she'd be allowed in, partly because she didn't really care how many had died, hadn't really cared for any of the dead – she was selfish and didn't deny it.

8. She expected Draco and she to marry. But he seemed engrossed with his parents, moving house and trying to get his parental relationship back on track, finishing his education. And then, he was like a different person, preferring to go out and get drunk on his own rather than hang out with her and their friends, preferring to go home with random girls than spend time with her. And she expected him to get over it eventually, to sort himself out and then come to her.

Instead, he seemed to get worse, and, even when she went over to his house, he refused to speak with her. And though she kept telling herself that he'd come round eventually, that she had to be patient, even she started to doubt it after a while. But even after he slammed the door in her face, even after he sent back her letters unopened, even after he saw her in Diagon Alley and walked straight past, ignoring her when she said his name, she kept the belief that one day, they'd marry.

Then her family got a wedding invitation. At first, she didn't know who it was for – her mother said something about a wedding in the spring, and how she'd have to note down the date. And then she saw the invitation - and the words _Draco Malfoy and Astoria Greengrass_ jumped out at her. She hadn't even known he was dating anyone, never mind engaged. And it felt like her whole world was crashing around, like Draco had betrayed her, cheated on her.

9. She sort of knew, really, that she wouldn't be able to talk him out of it. He looked at her with such dislike, and told her coldly to leave. When she grabbed his wrist he pulled his arm away. When she frantically told him that he couldn't marry Astoria, that she loved him, that he was supposed to marry her, he looked somewhat confused.

"Pansy." He said coolly. "I haven't even seen you in at least three years. You're being ridiculous – please leave." She was humiliated, and lost her head completely – she begged him not to marry Astoria. Later, she would pretend no begging took place, pretend she didn't see pity missed in the with the look of disdain Draco gave her as she was removed from the wedding, pretend they'd had a civil conversation.

She'd even tell herself that Draco had loved her, really, just not enough. But that feeling of not being good enough – for her parents, her brothers, her teachers, her friends – had intensified – because she wasn't good enough for the man she loved.

10. She did marry, eventually. The son of her mother's cousin, who remained in the old pure-blood mindset, who didn't seem all that pleased by her, but wanted a wedding and a heir. They had the wedding, but in the end she gave him only daughters, and never managed a son. She found a kind of vindictive pleasure in this, in not providing the one thing he wanted, until he had an affair and had a son that way. He moved the boy, when he was born, into their home, and expected Pansy to treat him as her own. She never did quite manage it, and has barely ever spoken to the boy.

She couldn't help but notice that Draco had a son. If she'd have married Draco, she would have surely provided him with a heir – and a better one that Astoria did.


	73. Dennis Creevey

Not sure how well this came out, really. Seems too Colin-centric to me...

73. Dennis

1. He didn't really like being the youngest. Colin was, in his opinion, the best big brother any one could ever ask for, and it wasn't that Dennis wanted to be the oldest brother. No, he was perfectly happy with Colin as the eldest – he would just rather have been the middle child than the youngest. He wanted a little sister, from a very young age, though he could never explain why. He just thought it would be nice to have a little girl around the place, one who he and Colin would protect and probably dote on. One who would look up to the two of them.

But his parents were happy with their two boys, and so Dennis never got the sister he wanted.

(Later, years and years later, as he stood by his brother's grave, he wished again for that little sister – or even a younger brother – so that he wouldn't feel so bitterly alone.)

2. He never noticed any signs of magic from himself. He noticed the things Colin did, when he was around for them – they scared him as much as they excited him – but he never noticed himself doing any funny little tricks. So when Colin got his place at Hogwarts, Dennis was – though fascinated and pleased for his big brother – upset, because he didn't see how he, too, could be a wizard, which meant that he wouldn't be going off to Hogwarts...

So for those first few months, he tried valiantly to perform any kind of magic – anything at all. And yet he never noticed anything – not the way a couple of red leaves on the tree slowly turned back green, not the way the pure white cat slinking around outside the fence turned suddenly orange – he noticed no magic at all.

3. And then, of course, came Christmas. And Dennis, excitedly awaiting his big brother's return, was sat down by his parents, who told him that they hadn't wanted to worry him, but Colin wouldn't be coming home for Christmas. They explained, best they could, how there had been "a little accident" and Colin was "petrified" which, they told him, was just like being asleep, and didn't hurt at all.

He got a lot upset then, because the last time someone had said something was "like being asleep, and didn't hurt" they were referring to him grandmother's death. But his parents quickly assured him that Colin would be OK, that in a few months the school would be able to wake him up.

Still Christmas was a rather dark affair, what with Colin's presents sitting unopened under the tree, and his parents being all worried.

Plus, though he tried to tell himself that it wasn't Colin's fault, that he didn't want to be in this weird kind of sleep, and had no control over it, Dennis couldn't help but remember that Colin had _promised_ he'd be home at Christmas – and, albeit accidently, Colin had broken that promise.

4. Still, Colin was home for summer, and for a couple of months everything was back to normal – he had his brother back. And then, all too soon, Colin was gone again. Dennis spent much of the next year writing to his brother, waiting for him to come home for holidays, and trying to perform magic.

He and Colin waited anxiously, after Dennis's eleventh birthday, for a letter, but Dennis – having never seen any of his own magic – was convinced it wouldn't arrive. That he'd be going off to a muggle secondary school, and would continue to only see his brother for part of the year.

And then – _then_ – an owl swooped in, dropping at letter addressed to him – and he was in – he was a wizard – he was going to Hogwarts!

5. He was terrified about going off in the boats without Colin. Even though Hagrid, the big giant man who was actually nice, assured him that it was safe, and sat him in a boat beside his own, he didn't feel safe without his brother there – and then the wind tipped his boat, and he fell in.

His first thought was that he was going to die. Going to drown, right there, in the freezing cold water. He was falling, sinking deeper and deeper - and then something – something huge and cold and slimy – pushed at him until he broke the surface, and Hagrid quickly pulled him up, into a boat, and hurriedly wrapped him in a huge, furry coat.

And suddenly he wasn't at all scared – this was exciting and thrilling and fun. And Dennis was sure it'd stay that way.

6. He made a lot of friends at Hogwarts, but it was nice to have his brother there. Still, one thing they never quite agreed on – though Dennis never admitted it to Colin – was the idolisation of Harry Potter.

Maybe, Dennis would reason, it was just that he'd never spoken to him. Colin had, and so maybe that was the difference – maybe that was why Dennis didn't see this amazing hero that his brother did. But Harry Potter was pretty much just another one of the older, taller kids that Hogwarts was full off. Sure, there were a few interesting stories in his background, but he was still not exactly what Dennis would call a hero – nor was he an idol.

Before he got up the guts to say this to his brother, however – and he was convinced he ought to say it, because it felt almost like lying to let Colin believe he idolised Harry, too – before he could say anything, Harry Potter had exited the maze with a dead body, and Lord Voldemort was back. And suddenly it didn't matter what he thought of Harry, didn't matter that he felt a little guilty about leading his brother on – nothing mattered, because he knew that this was bad. Really bad.

"It'll be fine. It'll work out." Colin assured him on the train ride home. But Dennis had never been as much of an optimist as his brother, and he just couldn't believe everything would be OK.

(It was only when Colin snuck him into Hogsmeade to sign up for secret defence lessons that Dennis realised maybe his brother wasn't as certain as he was pretending. This, more than anything, scared him, and motivated him to work had during the D.A meetings.)

7. Two years later, nothing was alright, and they were in hiding. _Hiding_. Away, where they were safe, from their own world, their own kind. It just felt wrong. And every time he heard of a new torture at Hogwarts, a new rule brutally enforced, it was like their world was slipping away from them. And Colin was uncharacteristically moody, and Dennis was terrified.

And then, out of the blue, Colin was waking him, telling him that something was happening at Hogwarts, and that he was going, and Dennis could come too. He said something about over-throwing the Carrows, getting Hogwarts back, and so Dennis got up quickly and dressed.

And then in no time at all, Colin was urging him back home, because Voldemort was on his way. And Dennis, instead of insisting Colin come home with him, reluctantly left him behind and went home. To safety, while his brother stayed in danger.

8. It was many sleepless hours later when Professor McGonagall came. Dennis and his parents had been sat awake anxiously, and then she was on the doorstep.

And he knew.

He'll never remember exactly what she said. Her voice was unusually gentle, and he simply remembers the soft tone as she explained what he'd already guessed – that his big brother was dead. He'll remember how her voice broke, remember how her eyes filled with tear and a few of them spilled over. That, for him, made it so much more real. But, at the same time, he'll always admire her and be grateful that she cried over his brother – that she cared enough to grip his mother's hand as she told them Colin was brave, that he'd made a difference.

He'd never had a favourite teacher until then – but she will always, from that moment on, be his favourite.

9. He didn't bother to hide the fact he was crying. It was his brother's burial, after all. And no one would notice him – not when his broken mother was wailing like that. And then he couldn't stand there any longer, listen to some vicar who'd never even met Colin give some impersonal speech. He turned, walked away, out of the cemetery, and into the street, desperately trying to drag air into his lungs.

"I can't be a wizard anymore." He muttered aloud. "I can't go back there. I can't even look at a wand anymore. God, I can't be magic." He would have gone home and snapped his wand, if a hand hadn't gripped his elbow. Turning, he saw one of Colin's friends, Lucilla. Her bright blue eyes were swimming with tears, but she gave him a shaky smile.

"Too late for that. You're already magic, Dennis." She said. They began walking, on unspoken agreement.

"I can't be wizard anymore. Magic killed him." Dennis said flatly.

"No. Death Eaters killed him." Lucilla said firmly. "Colin loved magic, and he loved the fact that you were magic. You can't take that away from him."

"In case you haven't noticed," Dennis said, a little too coldly, a little too hardly, "Colin isn't here. It's not possible to take anything away from him."

She shook her head at him. "You're a wizard, Dennis, and you can't change that. I promised Colin, that night, that if anything happened to him, I'd look out for you. And I will."

He shook his head, turned and walked back. His mother would need him.

10. But Lucilla kept to her word. She talked him into going back to Hogwarts. She helped him through his grief. She helped him with everything, actually, and became his best friend, the person he trusted more than anything, the person he...the person he...

The day he realised he was in love with her, he closed his eyes, lowered his head, and groaned.

But the day she admitted she loved him back was the happiest he'd felt since losing his brother.

A few years later, he held his son – Benjamin Colin – for the first time, and felt even happier.

"Let's," he said to Lucilla, who looked shattered, "have a huge family. Five or six kids, at least."

His kids, he vowed, would never feel lonely.

Lucilla gaped at hime. "Ben's fifteen minutes old." She told him. "Don't you think you should wait a while before asking me to do _that_ five more times?"

Dennis smiled apologetically. But he ended up with the large family he'd always wanted.


	74. Alice Longbottom

Well I think this came out OK. I know a lot of you have been asking for Neville's parents for a while, so here's his mum. I might do Frank next, but I haven't decided yet. Number ten's probably not how it is in JKR's world, but I like to think of it this way.

And if anyone's interested, Neville's chapter has been elaborated, and I've named his kids. All the chapter's before that had been rewritten, too.

74. Alice

1. She was always a happy child. Always smiling, always laughing. Everyone who met the girl would remark who bright she was, and her smile seemed infectious. She loved to be outside in the sun, and spent every warm day running through the fields by her home. If her mother would have let her, she'd have done the same on the rainy or bitterly cold days, too. But she wouldn't, so Alice waited for the sunny days. She would often bring home small animals – kitten, puppies, squirrels, mice, rats, rabbits, frogs, anything that she could carry. Her parents were both exasperated and amused with the way she could tame any animal, and enchant it into sitting in her arms, as docile as a teddy bear.

At eight, where her parents made her set free the enormous rat she'd brought home – due to her mother's fear of them – she vowed that when she had a place of her own, she would have as many pets as she could fit in it.

2. She was always a romantic. She grew up loving fairy tales, where the prince rescued the princess. Where everything worked out alright, where the bad guy was killed, where everyone lived happily ever after. When she grew a little older, though she knew she was really too old for it, she still liked the fairy tales, and dreamed that one day, her own prince would rescue her. From what, she didn't know. But Alice, as she grew older, waited for her prince, determined that she'd get her fairy tale ending.

3. Seeing Hogwarts for the first time only reinforced her fairy tale longing. The majestic castle could have appeared straight from the pages of a story book – it even had towers, ideal for princesses to be locked up. And so at night, when Alice couldn't sleep, she'd imagine a princess (who looked, of course, remarkably like herself) locked in the tower, by the wicked witch (who's appearance would change all the time) waiting for her prince to slay the dragon that guarded her, and take her off into the sunset, to live happily ever after.

By the end of her fifth year, her prince looked strangely like Frank Longbottom.

4. She loved being a witch. There were some she knew who disliked it – disliked that they were hidden away, disliked that they were not "normal" – meaning muggles – disliked the different abilities in magic that meant some felt lesser than others. But she loved it, loved everything about it.

Until the rumours started. Until the strange deaths, the missing people. Until the rumours were no longer rumours – until Lord Voldemort was confirmed...Then she found herself thinking that without magic, none of this would be happening – everyone would be safe.

She felt this way, however, for only a short period of time. Then she felt anger – that someone would take something as special and beautiful as magic and use it for such evil. That someone would try to destroy her world. And then she knew, finally, what she wanted to do with her life, what career she wanted.

She was going to be an auror, she vowed. And a damn good one.

5. She worked hard through her exams, managed to earn top grades, and was accepted for auror training. The training was difficult, and there were times when she wasn't sure she could make it – but she was determined to, determined that she would help end this war, determined that one day she'd have children who grew up in a Voldemort-free world.

Still, the training was hard. And then, suddenly, she found something – or rather, someone – who made it bearable.

Frank Longbottom, the guy she'd liked for years, the boy who she'd secretly imagined as her prince, awkwardly asked her on a date. And, practically before she knew it, they were inseparable, she was in love, and everything seemed so much brighter, even in the darkness of her world.

6. But it got harder and harder to smile. More deaths, disappearances, dementor attacks. Nothing seemed worth smiling for anymore – though she tried, best she could, smiled as often as she could. But the very fact that it was hard to drag her muscles into the smile made her feel even sadder, and everything seemed darker and darker. She spent the nights worrying, the days plotting or fighting against Voldemort and his followers. And she couldn't think of anything that would make her smile again, anything that would brighten the world...

And then when it did occur to her, the one thing she wanted, the one thing that could make her happy – well, she knew it was a stupid thing to do, really. Selfish, even. But she couldn't help it.

"Frank?" She said quietly one afternoon. "Let's have a baby..."

7. Her pregnancy was difficult. Not physically – she and the baby were, thankfully, healthy. But emotionally. She went from being delighted by it, by the life inside her, to being terrified, and angry at herself – bring a child into a world like this? What was she thinking? – several times, often in the same day.

She wasn't, however, alone. Lily Potter, another member of the Order, who'd she'd known in school and got along well with – though they'd hung around in different groups – was also expecting, and it made it so much easier for them both. They could calm each other, comfort each other, and compare symptoms. Alice even went so far as to say she didn't know how she'd have got through it without her.

And then they even went into labour on the same day. They thought it a funny quirk, something that they'd tell their sons about one day. And Alice never knew how close she came to having Lily's own fate.

8. Neville was amazing. Bright and happy and smiley, he was a wonder. She was terrified of losing him – for the first six months of his life, she hardly slept, instead sitting awake and watching him. Not because he didn't sleep – he slept well almost straight away – but because she was terrified he wouldn't wake up. She was scared to take him outside – what if they were attacked? What if something happened to him? What if he even just caught a bug, was sick? But after a while she learned to relax, to just be happy with him, and not to worry so much.

She wanted more. Wasn't sure that it was wise, what with the war, but she thought that maybe when he was a year old – or maybe two – they could have another child. A little brother or sister.

She was back to dreaming, of happily ever afters, bad guys gone forever, and peace and harmony across the land.

9. She was devastated by Lily and James's death. Most other people seemed primarily pleased that Voldemort was gone, confused as to how Harry had survived, and so grief for Lily and James scarcely had room in their minds. But she was horrified.

"They didn't deserve to die." She wept. Frank only nodded, not knowing how to comfort her. But she couldn't be comforted, not when two of her good friends were dead, when their son – who she and Lily had planned to grow up with Neville, best friends – was sent off to muggles.

But she didn't get much time to feel this way. Not before four Death Eaters burst into their house. Neville had been with his grandmother at the time – she was thankful he wasn't there to witness it. It all happened so fast – they burst into the house, disarmed the both of them, restrained Frank magically, and then one of them grabbed her. She didn't understand - they were demanding to know where Voldemort was, what the ministry had done with him. No one, not even Dumbledore, knew where Voldemort had gone.

And then there was pain. All four of them had their wands on her, yelling "Crucio" in unison. The pain was unbearable, blinding, hot and cold, stabbing and aching, and she couldn't think, speak – she couldn't even scream. And in the midst of it was Frank's voice, high and strained, almost screeching – "_She doesn't know anything – leave her alone – please, we don't know anything_!"

But they weren't listening, and no matter how much she tried to focus on Frank's voice, she couldn't. The pain...all she could feel, focus on, was the pain, and Frank's voice was dimmer and dimmer, and she tried to think about her son, telling herself she had to get through this, for Neville...but the pain...the _pain_...then Alice retreated inside, to a place where pain couldn't reach her.

10. She knew nothing. Her mind was empty. Alice knew not who she was, where she was, or why. She had no memories, no nothing. Maybe it was kinder that she couldn't remember who she'd been, that she knew nothing. Kinder, at least, than if she'd been trapped inside herself knowingly. Instead, she knew nothing, except that the man in the bed beside hers was someone she didn't want to be away from, someone she needed beside her at all times. Other than that, she was blank.

Unless the boy came. She didn't know who he was, and the woman with him meant nothing to her. But the boy...there was something, something there, that she couldn't identify. Some kind of affection she couldn't recognise when she saw him. She still loved him, she just wasn't aware of it. Didn't recognise him, nor the emotion. But she liked it when the boy came.

Then one day, the boy – she still thought of him as the boy, despite him being now a man – brought three children with him. A boy, two girls, who somewhat resembled him, though they were unfamiliar to her. And yet...yet there was something, some feeling, not unlike what she felt for the boy. She had no idea she was meeting her grandchildren, and yet she loved them.

The Death Eaters had destroyed her mind, her life. But her heart was still intact.


	75. Frank Longbottom

Thanks again for all the reviews - less than a hundred away from two thousand. So wow, thank you all so much.

75. Frank

1. He was, from a very young age, a quiet, serious child. He was the type to think things through before he did them, the type to carefully consider everything he said. It was a quality his mother approved of, and one that made the adults around him smile fondly at him, pronouncing the considerate, serious, polite child to be "adorable". He was a cautious child, too – not the type to jump four steps just to see if he could, or to climb on chair to reach high shelves. He was even careful with the pocket money his mother gave him, storing the silver away, just in case he ever found something expensive he wanted to buy, and using it only rarely.

As he got a little older, his "baby" toys were neatly stored away – though not thrown out, in case he ever needed them. His birthday cards were kept in a drawer, because he felt it rude to throw them away, after people had taken time and money to buy and sign them. And he didn't change.

2. He was always close to his mother. An only child, and mature beyond his years, they would spend every evening, throughout his childhood, sat in the living room while she sewed and he read. During the day, he would help her clean up, and cook, while talking about anything that came to them. And she would share stories of her youth, delighting him with tales of Hogwarts, the place he couldn't wait to go to.

But when the time came to actually leave, to travel across the country and leave his home, his parents behind, his nerve faltered. Because the idea of spending all those months away from his mother was…well, not something he felt he'd enjoy. And what would his mum do without him? Wouldn't she be lonely, during the day while his father worked and she was alone in the house? And wouldn't she miss him, while she sewed in the evening and he wasn't there by her side? And what about him – who would he talk to? Who would patiently answer all his questions?

He was extremely tempted to stay home, but his father insisted that he was to go to Hogwarts. And in the end, Frank was glad he did.

3. The castle took his breath away, and before he'd even entered it, he fell in love with it. And stepping inside, it didn't feel like a school – but like a large, crowded home. And Frank, despite his conviction that he wouldn't make any friends at all, managed to make many – because his considerate, serious nature made him easy to talk to, and easy to trust. Within his first few weeks, he'd made many friends, most of whom had confided their deepest secrets in him, instinctively knowing that he would take such secrets with him to the grave. His peers brought to him their problems, following his advice without hesitation.

4. He noticed Alice straight away. She seemed, to him, so very young and innocent, though they were in the same year. And she was always, always, smiling. Always bright and happy. He found himself, as he grew older, rather desperate to be in her company, laughing at her jokes, and telling his own, just to see her eyes brighten as she laughed. And she always laughed, even when he knew his jokes weren't funny – which was more often than not. She was also one of the kindest people he knew.

By the end of his seventh year, despite the fact that they hardly knew each other, despite the fact that they weren't even close friends, despite the fact that she'd shown no interest in him whatsoever, he was in love with her.

5. He didn't know that she wanted to be an auror, too. Didn't know that they'd both applied for the training, that they'd both been accepted. But when she turned up, on the same day as him – looking slightly nervous but flushed with excitement, he felt that it was fate – that they were supposed to be together, and since he'd never got up the nerve to ask her out at school, fate hat intervened to give him a second chance. This conclusion was actually somewhat of a surprise to Frank, as he'd never much believed in fate before. And maybe he didn't completely believe it now, either – but telling himself that some divine power wanted him to ask Alice out made it easy to get the guts to actually do so.

And she, when he stammered out the words, blushed, and lowered her lashes shyly. It was so very fairy-tale – and later, when he got to know her better, he suspected that she'd done so to make it that way – but she lowered her lashes, nodded, and said sweetly that she'd love to.

6. Maybe they'd rushed things. After all, with the war and Lord Voldemort and all the bad things that were happening, it seemed silly to wait around. Once they'd established that they loved each other, it was only natural to propose, even if they'd only been going out a few months and his mother didn't completely approve. And, once engaged, why bother waiting months and months – or even a year – to marry? No, their engagement lasted four months, and then they were married.

But even if they had rushed things a little, even if his mother – who liked and approved of Alice – hinted that they should have taken things a little slower, Frank was very happy with the way things were, despite the constant danger. But then Alice was talking about a _baby_. A baby – a tiny, helpless life – and how were they supposed to manage to look after a baby?

7. He looked at her, prepared to gently tell her this was not the time –and then looked into her eyes. His Alice had always held innocence in those eyes. As she'd grown and matured, her eyes had never lost that innocence, that childish quality, and always, always, held a bright, happy look. But now the innocence was gone – and how could he not have seen that before now – how could he not have noticed it had began to fade, from the first time she'd fought Death Eaters? The childishness was completely gone – and thinking about it, he couldn't remember when he'd last seen it there. And the bright, happy look had vanished, to give way to nerves and fear and despair. And he knew that a child was the one thing that might bring back the happiness – though he feared the innocence and childish quality were gone forever – and how could he refuse?

8. He could never have anticipated how much things changed with a child. Not just the ordinary things – the added expense of baby clothes and nappies – or the lack of sleep in the beginning. But the worry – the constant worry. It was bad enough when it was just Alice he had to worry for – a fully trained, and very good, auror. Though he couldn't _not_ be afraid for her, he knew she could take care of herself. But a baby? His son was so vulnerable, and Frank spent day after day worrying that he'd go home to find his child dead. He spent night after night laying awake, listening for any signs of trouble. And he just wished it would all be over, that Voldemort would be gone and everything would be OK.

9. It was like a miracle. Sure, it was sad and horrifying that poor Lily and James Potter had lost their lives, and that their baby son was sent away – but Voldemort was gone. No more worry, no more sleepless nights – everything, Frank was sure, was going to be perfect.

And then there were Death Eaters in his house. He was restrained, and Alice was screaming, screaming, screaming.

The Death Eaters seemed to believe that the ministry had hidden Voldemort, and that he or Alice knew where he was. Which, of course, they did not. He hardly knew what he was yelling at them – and didn't notice when he started sobbing. All he could focus on was his wife's anguished screams, and then the way they stopped, as though she was in too much pain to draw the breath to form them. The way her face – too pale, far too pale – was twisted in agony. The way she writhed, trying desperately to get away from the pain. The way her eyes were so wide and huge – far too huge for her face.

They lifted their wands, let her lay, while they told him that if he didn't tell them, they'd do it again – and again and again and again, until either they got what they wanted or his wife died. He would have told them anything at that moment - but he didn't know anything. And so after a few moments of Alice whimpering, shaking, they turned their wands on her again. Until his wife stopped writhing, until her eyes, though still far too huge, became empty, blank. Until her face, too, relaxed, though her expression vaguely echoed her earlier pain.

She was still alive – breathing, her heart beating – but Frank knew his wife was lost.

10. And then the wands were on him. And the intense physical pain matched his intense emotional one – Alice, his Alice, tortured, destroyed – and, God, what if they never got her back to normal? What if she was lost forever – what would he do without her?

He managed to take it for a long while, telling himself he had to keep his mind, to survive this, so he could help Alice, so he could look after Neville. But after a while, the physical pain drowned out all thought, all emotion, and he could feel himself slipping away - he didn't want to hurt anymore.

He tried to stay. Tried to survive it. But even the strongest minds break eventually – and by the time ministry officials, alerted by someone who'd heard the screaming, arrived on the scene, serious, considerate Frank was lost to the world.


	76. Blaise Zabini

Well, I probably wouldn't have done this if it hadn't been requested, and I hardly knew where to start. I'm not sure what to think about it, really, but I figure it could have been worse.

Also, we're twenty-four chapters away from a hundred, and so I'm determined to make it. I was thinking that if I couldn't manage enough characters I'd do some more general chapters - for example, on the Weasley family as a whole. Stuff like that - what do you think?

76. Blaise

1. A lot of his childhood memories consist of many fancy parties, which he was expected to dress up for, looking perfectly clean and smart and well mannered, stand by his mother's side for several minutes while she introduced herself to people she didn't know, and then go to bed and make no noise or mess or trouble at all. Other than those occasions, he was expected to stay out of his mother's way. He knew – though how he knew, he wasn't sure – that his existence had been accidental. His mother had never wanted children, and he had been the accidental product of her second marriage. He thought – hoped, really – that she held some love for him, but she scarcely showed it. He was, however, never deprived anything material – he had the best clothes, the best toys, and a host of servants for his use alone.

But he had his mother's affection only a handful of times – when a boyfriend or fiancé had broken up with her, or when the ministry became suspicious over her fifth husband's death, when she got upset and sought comfort from the child who so desperately wanted her love.

2. His biological father was dead. It was the plain and simple fact of it, and one Blaise had been told at four, when it first occurred to him to ask why he didn't have a one. This was right after the chef's wife had a baby, and came to work all happy and smiley, showing off pictures and exclaiming that he couldn't belief he was a daddy. So Blaise went to his mother, and asked after his own daddy.

"He's dead, sweetheart." She'd told him bluntly, spraying herself with perfume. She'd been getting ready to go out, and running late – Blaise could always tell when she was running late, because she'd use an endearment rather than his name. (When he got older, he bitterly thought that this was because she couldn't spare the time to remember it.)

"When?" Blaise had asked. "How?"

"Hmm? Oh – when you were about a year or so old. It was a terrible accident. Now, darling, behave yourself while I'm gone, OK?" And she'd breezed from the room without looking at him. Blaise had stood in the room for a little while longer, wondering how he was supposed to feel about his father's death.

3. It wasn't, of course, like there were no males in his life. A few months after he'd learned of his father's fate, his mother remarried in a lavish, expensive ceremony. Herbert, the man she'd married, was a moody, impatient man, who had very little time for Blaise, ignoring him and often getting his name wrong. The marriage lasted almost a year – then Herbert was dead, after falling from his broomstick. About a year later, his mother married again, in what the press decreed a "whirlwind romance". Blaise had liked this one, actually, very much. Dominic was often laughing, and would always take some time to talk to Blaise – often, more time than his own mother had – and he never, never shouted, like Herbert had. The marriage lasted three years, and then Dominic was killed in a backfiring spell. Blaise's mother received all of Dominic's money, and seemed to recover from her grief remarkably quickly, but Blaise was heartbroken over the loss of the only man he'd considered a father. His mother's fifth husband attempted to form a relationship with Blaise, but Blaise disliked him so much that it didn't work, and after a few months Blaise left for Hogwarts anyway.

During the Eater holidays in his first year, he attended another stepfather's funeral. He had little contact with his next stepfather, due to being at Hogwarts, but attended the funeral during the Christmas holidays in his third year. His mother's seventh husband got along well with Blaise, but at that point he was fifteen and far too sick on the endless parade of husbands, boyfriends, and fiancés his mother brought home. He died right before Blaise left for his sixth year.

4. A lot of people were impressed by Hogwarts. It was comfortable enough, Blaise supposed, but his home was much more magnificent, and the servants were much better, too. Plus, it was a school. But most of all, the worst thing about it, was the amount of people in it. Blaise had been around people his whole life, of course, but he wasn't used to sharing a room with other boys – at home, he had a whole wing to himself – nor used to sharing a table. At home, he could be alone as much as he wanted – at Hogwarts, privacy was rather difficult. He hated it, really. From beginning to end, he hated it.

After his first year, he begged him mother to let him stay at home, to hire someone to teach him from home, and not send him back there. She'd looked rather uncomfortable, and he'd known what the answer was going to be. "Darling," she'd said carefully, "Hogwarts is the best school there is. And...well, it's not really possible for me to keep you home right now. You'll settle in, I'm sure."

Blaise had nodded, and left her, knowing that she'd meant she didn't want him home during the term, and that he had to keep going whether he liked it or not.

5. It was somewhat of a surprise to him when the girls at Hogwarts started paying him attention. He hadn't expected it, hadn't considered himself particularly good looking – but the girls around him seemed to. And while it was annoying when younger students would burst into giggles at he walked past, or when girls his age would intrude when he was trying to think or do homework, sitting in front of him, tossing their hair and pretending to laugh, despite him not saying anything funny, it was an ego boost. And it was nice to be able to choose the prettiest of the lot, to have other guys look on enviously.

6. He'd never been much for the whole pure-blood pride thing. His mother had mildly believed it – though only in certain company – and in his childish desperation for her love he'd made himself believe it, too. Then he'd gone to Hogwarts, to Slytherin, and he'd sort of had to believe it. Or at least act if he did. Not that he cared what his peers thought of him, exactly, but it made for an easier life.

He had, however, thought Ginny Weasley was pretty. Very pretty, actually. There'd been a few of them in the library, during his fifth year, and she'd been sat with friends not far away. Pansy had made some comment about him breaking up with his latest girlfriend, and asked if he had his eye on anyone else. He'd shrugged, looking around, and Ginny had caught his eye. He hadn't recognised who she was- well, why would he ever have paid any attention to a ryffindor in the yea below him? - and said, "She's hot, over there. Might go for her."

Pansy had delighted in telling him who she was, and watching his discomfort, as he'd struggled to amend his statement, adding an unconvincing, "Yeah, I meant I might go for her if she wasn't a blood traitor." She'd laughed wildly, and brought it up countless times afterwards, only adding to his dislike of her.

(A little while later, however, Draco had scathingly told Pansy to shut up about it, and asked if she fancied Blaise herself. Pansy had blushed, offered a stammering and unconvincing denial, and sulked. Blaise had been rather smug that even Pansy Parkinson liked him. Even if he'd never have returned the feelings.)

7. He was rather bored by the whole war, at first. He was safe, after all, being pure-blood and Slytherin and having Death Eater relatives. He figured he could watch both sides battle it out, and live happily enough in the winner's world. He was slightly impressed by Draco being a Death Eater – at sixteen year old? Who'd've thought? – But sort of thought that Voldemort was unlikely to win, really, if he was recruiting under-age wizards. They were practically still kids, after all, so what good would they be?

But then Dumbledore was dead, and while Blaise wasn't all that bothered by it, he noticed the way everything changed. The way everyone was so much more scared, and Hogwarts was so much worse. His seventh year was awful, even if he wasn't exactly worried.

8. He wasn't there for the final battle. He, along with most of the other Slytherin's, left the castle. But he, along with a lot of the others, waited in Hogsmeade to find out what happened. Not just because he wanted to know – though he was curious – but because he didn't really want to go home, to a house full of nervous servents, some of whom had children at Hogwarts, asking questions. And because he didn't know if he wanted his mum to be there or not. Didn't know what she'd think of the whole situation. And because – though he'd never have admitted it – he wanted his mother to hear about the situation, to realise he wasn't home and hadn't been in contact, and to worry. To panic, to be scared that he may never make it home.

Eventually, word came down that Voldemort was dead, and Harry Potter wasn't. And the whole thing was over, and Blaise was tired and uncertain – many around him were celebrating, others were looking disappointed and slinking away, and he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do. So Blaise went home, thinking longingly of his bed and wondering vaguely what would happen to Hogwarts now.

9. His mother greeted him at the door, looking like he'd never seen her before. She was wearing a silk robe, her face was almost devoid of makeup, and she looked worried. Actually worried. Not by lots, granted, but still. And she hugged him, saying anxiously that she'd been worried about him, that he should have let her know he was OK, and asking if he'd been caught up in the battle, if he'd been hurt.

Blaise answered her questions, allowed her to hug him, and tried to be pleased that she cared - or at least, that she hadn't wanted him to be dead. But found he couldn't. It was, he realised later, too little, too late. He'd needed her to love him when he was a kid. Needed her to show him she cared. Instead, it had taken this for her to do either, and it wasn't enough.

(Maybe, just maybe, if she'd carried on acting like she loved him after that night, he might have forgiven all the years of emotional neglect, and they could have formed some kind of relationship. But by next morning she was back to normal, breezing out of the house without a word to him.)

10. He never planned to marry. He'd attended too many weddings to want to go through it himself. And he didn't suppose he could be a good parent, and women always wanted to have kids, didn't they? Besides, he hadn't yet found any female who was interesting to him. None that he wanted to spend more than a few weeks with, never mind the rest of his life – and Blaise was determined that marriage _should_ mean the rest of your life. So he settled himself into single life, focusing on a career he didn't really like, and creating a packed social life.

And then he turned thirty-four. And suddenly he couldn't tell himself that he was only a year or so into his third decade – he was almost halfway through it! And he felt so very old, and suddenly he felt so empty. Everyone he knew had kids, and while he didn't particularly like any of them, he was suddenly feeling like he ought to have one of his own. Shouldn't he have a heir to pass on his fortune to?

By his fortieth birthday, he had a wife and two daughters. It turned out that while other people's kids were a nuisance , his own are - well, they're his, and he adores them. And though it isn't always easy, Blaise is finally happy, finally complete.


	77. Cho Chang

Been meaning to get round to this one for a while, so hear it finally is. Not sure how well it came out, or how in character it is, but I never really liked Cho - die-hard Harry/Ginny fan since I read the second book, so I instantly disliked her on priciple.

77. Cho

1. She doesn't remember the first time she performed magic. She remembers performing it later – but not the first time. She was, according to her mother, almost three years old, and she changed the colour of a dress her grandmother had given her. And while it's a nice enough story to hear, it bothers her that she doesn't remember it herself. Because every time her friends would share tales of their first magic, they were describing what they'd done, why they'd done it, what had happened afterwards. And she could only tell it from someone else's memory. And even if her friends would say it was impressive that she'd done magic at such a young age, she felt like she was missing out – and she felt she'd much rather have had the memory and just started later.

2. She was terrified about going to Hogwarts. Most people, later, told her they'd been nervous and excited. She'd simply been terrified. Her parents tried to tell her that it was a good place, that she'd like it there – but Cho felt that her parents were far too old to understand what a girl her age would like. And it had been years and years and years since either of them had been there, so what did they know, really? Everything would have changed since then.

But the first time she saw the castle, she was one of the people to actually gasp. It was huge, and the windows were all blazing – it looked warm and welcoming and safe.

And suddenly, she found most of her nerves had gone.

3. It was strange, really. She'd flown before, at home. Her father had taught her. She'd been to Quidditch matches, and even played once in a while with her dad. She'd thought the sport was OK, but, you know, nothing all that amazing. Fun to watch, mostly. Unless their team lost, and her dad got all upset and sulky. And then suddenly she was watched the Ravenclaw team play, cheering and jeering along with everyone else, and wanted, more than anything else, to play herself – to be up there, on a broomstick, playing for her house. Wearing the blue robes and running on adrenaline. She wanted to hear her house cheering for her, wanted admiration, as much as she wanted the pride and the rush that must come for winning.

She nurtured the dream until it became a reality – and the first time she pulled on the blue robes, she couldn't stop smiling. Even though it was raining, even though the ground had turned into mud, meaning kicking off was difficult. Even if it was freezing and the other seeker was a seventh year, with way more experience. She couldn't stop grinning.

That first match ended after over an hour. They'd lost, by two hundred points, and she hadn't managed to catch the snitch. Or come close to it. She was drenched, covered in mud, so cold she couldn't feel her fingers, or her toes, and ached all over, from the effort it had taken to cling to and control the broom in the wind. But she couldn't stop smiling – they may have lost, but she'd loved every minute of it.

4. She was rather uncomfortable around boys. They'd often stare at her, and while her friends said it was because she was pretty, it made Cho feel awkward. What were you supposed to say to a guy who sat staring at you? It was even worse whenever she was asked out – what was she supposed to say? Most often she wanted to say no – and how could you say that nicely? And even if she had wanted to say yes, how exactly was she supposed to phrase it? She couldn't just say "Yes, OK," – it didn't feel like enough. Shouldn't she show some kind of enthusiasm, rather that just blushing and nodding? But how could she be enthusiastic when she felt so embarrassed she couldn't think straight?

After a while, she fell into the habit of looking determinedly at the floor, and muttering that she was very sorry, but she couldn't, before making a hasty exit. It caused her friends to laugh at her, and made several boys give her the silent treatment for a while, but it was all she could manage to do.

5. Then the Yule Ball came around, and she was torn. She wanted to go with a date, of course. But she didn't want to be asked – she didn't react well to things like that. And she couldn't ask someone herself. Eventually, she resolved to say yes to the first person who asked her. Well, within reason.

And then Cedric was walking up to her in the hallway. He simply asked if he could walk her to her next lesson, and they chatted idly. She began to relax – after all, she knew Cedric reasonably well, and he wasn't the type to stare – and then he casually asked if she had a date to the ball. When she shook her head – already looking at the floor and blushing – he asked if she'd maybe want to go with him. To which she agreed before she could chicken out.

A lot of people heard about it, so she felt safe – no one else would ask her, would they? And so she began to relax. And when Harry asked for a word, she never dreamed...well, she was older than him, wasn't she? And he was Harry Potter – why would he want to go with her? So when he finally got the words out, she had to fight not to panic, and tell herself that this was Harry (and she'd sort of, the year before, thought she might actually like him a little bit) and she had to properly explain. She felt kind of mean about it, too, because he looked so dejected. And, if he'd have asked her before Cedric, she knew she'd have said yes, and not just because of her resolution.

6. She liked Cedric. A lot. They grew close very quickly, and she even found herself thinking of happily ever afters. And she was his hostage during the second task – which was immensely flattering, if a little intimidating. (Because she hadn't known she'd meant that much to him, and it made her worry that she didn't like him enough.) But he was a nice person, occasionally funny – though not often, which Cho preferred, because having to understand and laugh at constant jokes got tedious for her – considerate, and he listened to her. And, as the final task drew nearer and nearer, she liked him more and more, and even started thinking...well, it seemed stupid, really, and she'd never have admitted it, to anyone, but she thought she might actually – maybe – sort of love him. And it terrified her.

And then the last task was about to start, and she was kissing him goodbye, and then finding a good seat in the stands, and watching anxiously, while trying to analyse her feelings.

When this was over, she decided, they'd talk. Really talk. And she'd find out just how he felt about her, and then maybe her own feelings would become clear. Because surely she couldn't actually _love_ Cedric Diggory? Of course not.

It was a long wait, and almost boring, watching the task. And Cho decided that she'd stop thinking so much about her and Cedric, and just spend some more time with him. Then she'd analyse her feelings.

7. No one understood at first. The cup, gleaming bright and gold, was what drew her attention. And she noticed Harry, clinging to it. At first, she didn't even see the person beside him. Just Harry, laying face down on the grass and not moving – and was he OK? Most of the crowd had stood to see what was going on, and Cho could hear, a few rows down, Hermione Granger's voice, higher than normal, asking, "Is he OK? What's happened – is he OK?" and Ron Weasley's voice answering, souding equally as terrified, "I don't know – come on, we need to get down there -"

Cho would have followed them, followed the rest of the crowd down there, if the whispers hadn't reached her. _It's Cedric – he's dead; the Diggory boy – the Diggory boy's dead; Cedric's dead!_

The fear pierced her heart, even as she told herself she'd just heard wrong. She looked back down at Harry, and for the first time she saw, through the crowd, the thing beside him. The lifeless body, laid sideways in an impossible position, with Harry clutching desperately to his wrist. She knew, instantly, that it was Cedric. She recognised him, even from here. And she couldn't move – she couldn't go down there – how could she go anywhere near it – near his body?

The sob caught in her throat, and Marietta pulled her into a hug. And still, she stood, frozen.

8. Guilt had never been an emotion that sat well with her. And suddenly she was full of it. She hadn't gone near the body. Cedric had been laid on the grass, in the cold, with people surrounding him, staring at him. She should have gone down there, and she should have held him. They hadn't let his parents near him, trying to explain before they saw. She should have gone down there and held him – someone should have held him.

And the last time she'd seen him, she'd kissed him, grinned, offered him luck, and said, "see you in a few hours." She should have said something better – should have told him how much he meant to her, how she thought she might even be falling in love with him, how much she loved being with him. She should have said or done a little more.

She shouldn't be so angry with him - for dying on her, for not keeping himself alive, for not saying what _she _meant to him before the task started. And most of all, she most definitely should not be feeling _this_ way about Harry. Not when Cedric had only been dead a few months. Not when she still cried over him. What kind of horrible person was she? She spent much of that year crying, and despising herself for it.

And Marietta was the one friend who would sit with her – sometimes even cry with her – listen to her or hug her. Everyone else had got sick of her.

So when Marietta sold them out to Umbridge, she couldn't really be too mad with her. Not when Marietta had stood by her for so long, tried to help her.

And, of course, she couldn't choose Harry over her best friend. Not when things weren't working between them anyway, not when he didn't even try to understand her, not when she felt so guilty being around him.

(And then she met Michael, who listened to her and tried to understand and got on really well with Marietta and even let her talk about Cedric.)

9. Maybe she was only so determined during the war because of Cedric. Maybe she wasn't. But either way, it became important to her. There wasn't a lot she could do, but the second she found out what was happening at Hogwarts, she was off. She couldn't _not_ go, couldn't _not_ fight, and she was determined to do what she could.

She didn't expect to die, but she wasn't certain she'd live. She wasn't prepared for either outcome, really – and there wasn't much time to think about such things.

But when they were all in the Great Hall, with Voldemort actually there, in the same room, she found herself thinking this was it. She believed Harry to be dead. She'd seen far too many bodies. She'd fallen down a flight of stairs, and her arm was agony, possibly broken. And with the pain – physical and emotional – and with the fear, she was pretty certain she was going to die.

But she didn't. Voldemort did; the hall filled with sunlight, in a beautiful cliché, and suddenly everyone was laughing – and crying, but laughing mostly – and there was hope, everywhere.

And it felt, for the first time in a long while, that everything was OK – that she could be happy.

10. She started to date a muggle because it was such a relief to be around someone who didn't know about the war – who didn't automatically ask how she was with something close top pity in their voice, and expect her to do the same, who didn't want to talk about that night or the people they'd lost – to be around someone who was normal, who was whole. And, when the time came, it was a relief to be able to talk about the war in her own words. To be able to explain it to someone who hadn't been there, to talk about how she felt, what she'd seen, without someone nodding and saying they understood, or sharing their own experiences. It was nice to receive comfort without having to give any back.

It suited her, this way. And she fell in love with Adrian, and knew it almost instantly. There was no doubts, no over-thinking. And no wasted time, either. She made sure to tell him how she felt straight away, and later she became obsessive about proper goodbyes. Her daughters, Kimi and Kissa, always get a hug and a "I love you" as does her husband. She won't let any of them leave her without it – just in case.


	78. Helena Ravenclaw aka The Grey Lady

78. Helena Ravenclaw/The Grey Lady

1. Pretty much the first thing she remembers is people telling her how brilliant her mother was. How smart and talented and gifted. They'd tell her how she should be proud to be Rowena's daughter, and how certain they were that she'd be the same.

She loved her mother. Of course she did. There was just the two of them, her father having been gone her whole life. And at first, the two of them were rather close. But other people's words caused resentment, and the resentment built up between them, until they were forced further and further apart. She resented that her mother was so perfect to the outside world – when Helena herself had heard her mother, many a time, cry during the night – and resented that she was expected to be the same. Expected to end up teaching at Hogwarts. They didn't ask what she wanted, or consider that she may not fit their expectations – they simply took the choice from her and told her what would be. Godric even told her, at the tender age of eleven, that Hogwarts would one day be her responsibility.

It wasn't what she wanted, and by her thirteenth birthday, she'd resolved to refuse the responsibility placed upon, and to be her own person.

2. By the time she was sixteen, she barely spoke to her mother. Later, she would realise that it was not Rowena's fault that she was admired, or that other people had formed expectations. But at that age it was much easier to hate her mother, to blame her.

Her mother disapproved of the Baron, which was precisely why Helena spent her time with him, and accepted his proposal. Still, she wasn't stubborn enough to condemn herself to a life with a man she didn't love, and didn't intend to honour the commitment. Instead, she started to plan.

In all her dreams of becoming a person separate from what was expected, she never wished to be a thief. But she sought to make herself better than her mother – and the diadem could be the way to do so. It was during the summer, at the little house they lived in during the holidays. She waited, until her mother had fallen asleep, then wrote her a rather cruel note, saying that she'd taken the diadem, and she wasn't going to return. That she wanted no contact with her, and that Rowena was to consider herself childless – and she, Helena, would consider herself an orphan.

And then she took the diadem, left the note in its place, and left the house, rather pleased with herself – all her mother's talents hadn't stopped her, had they? Her smarts hadn't figured out what her daughter was planning, had they? She slipped smugly from the house, and, true to her word, never returned.

3. The forest was a lonely place, and she loved it. Loved solitude. For someone who'd grown up in a crowded castle, filled with students who ever looked at her in awe or envy, the silent acceptance of the trees was ecstasy. It gave her a freedom she'd never before possessed – she could run through the trees if the impulse took her, or else walk slowly and enjoy the peace. There was no one to tell her what she ought to do, no one to try and control her. No one to heap pressure on her.

Still, she did, occasionally, miss her mother. Miss conversation. Miss the baron's doting on her – though not him personally. Despite this, however, she was convinced she could live happily enough her, away from everything she'd hated.

4. She wanted to go with him, the Baron. Her mother was dying, and she wanted to go back and see her one last time. It was her pride that stopped her. How could she face her mother, as a thief? How could she face what would surely be disgust and disappointment in her mother's eyes? How could she go back, when she'd sworn she would not? How could she face Godric and Helga, who must surely know what she'd done.

And so she refused, telling herself that for all she knew it was just a trick anyway. And when the Baron lost him temper, she ran. Until her caught her. Until her swung her back to face him. And sank a knife into her chest.

The pain was...shocking. She'd thought death would be painless, easy. But she was laid on the forest floor, blood pouring from her, as the Baron gasped and sobbed and tried to hold her – it took all her strength to push his hands away, but she would not let _him_ cradle her as she lay dying. She would take her last breaths in solitude. She was shaking, violently, and the pain – the pain was blinding – but then fading. Even as she fought to hold on to life, even as she gasped out desperate words, as though saying she didn't want to die would hold death away, everything was blurring and fading.

5. The pain was dulled, was less, until it was only warmth that emitted from the wound – and warmth that surrounded her. She felt, suddenly, safe. Loved. Protected. She sank into the warmth, and could see gold, all around her. And still, she resisted. She wasn't afraid anymore, but sad – she didn't want to be dead. She wanted to remain Helena Ravenclaw, wanted to stay as she was. And wanted, suddenly, more than anything, to return to Hogwarts. To see her mother, one last time.

The gold around her lightened, brightened, until everything was a pure white. And the next thing she knew, she was in her mother's bedroom, at the castle. Rowena was struggling to keep her own heart beating, desperate, Helena suddenly knew, to keep herself alive long enough to see her daughter.

She slipped forward, stood by the bed, and tried to lay her hand on her mother's. It slipped through the solid flesh, and into the mattress. The cold touch drew Rowena's attention; and she choked out a sob.

"Dead?" She whispered, looking at her only child. "No, no, no – but how? It can't be..."

Helena would have cried, were she able. Instead, she lowered herself to her knees, bowed her head. "I'm sorry, mother." She whispered. "I'm so sorry. For everything."

Rowena waited until her daughter looked up at her, and whispered, "I love you." And then her heart beat its final beat, and she was gone.

6. She thought of going back to Albania, haunting the forest. Thought of travelling south, haunting some other dwelling. She'd hated Hogwarts, for most of her time there – how could she spend eternity there? She would surely go insane.

At first, she stayed at Hogwarts because she was getting used to her death – and her mother's. Then she stayed while she was considering other places to haunt. And then, she couldn't leave. Hogwarts was not home, and she still disliked it for the memories it brought her, but she knew it was where she belonged. Where she ought to stay. Maybe as punishment, she mused. Maybe because that way she could keep an eye on her legacy, make sure no headmaster ever changed parts of the school that were not meant to be changed.

But it was miserable existence. A half-life. She couldn't eat, nor sleep. She refused to talk to the other ghosts. And she spent her time counting the years as they went by, bitterly wishing she wasn't there to see them.

7. He was a fourth year the first time he spoke to her. Handsome, even then, and still young enough to be sweet. He'd seek her out, and they'd sit in empty classrooms, or he'd sit on stairs while she floated. They'd talk. He'd share his worries, his fears. He was fascinated by Hogwarts, and loved it when she told him stories of the early days. It was nice to be listened to, so completely. To be understood. After a few months, he looked at her considering, said it must have been difficult for her.

No one had ever understood her.

She considered him a friend. She watched him grow, told him her secrets, grateful that such a boy would make time for her. Were she alive and capable of such things, she might have fallen in love with him.

8. He wasn't obvious about the diadem. First, he asked her if it was real. Said he'd heard about it, wondered if such a thing had ever existed, and known she would be the only one who'd know, who he could trust to tell him the truth. She confirmed its existence, and they both left it at that, until weeks later he casually remarked that it was probably a good thing it was lost, as the world would abuse such an object.

Maybe he'd suspected what she'd done. Maybe not. Either way, she found herself telling him the whole story. He was sympathetic, understanding, and when he asked where she'd hid it, she told him without thinking it through. He assured her that he wouldn't tell anyone, wouldn't ever go looking for it.

But his moments with her dwindled, and by the time he left the school he hadn't spoken to her for a few months. She realised, soon after, that her usefulness to him had ended the day she'd shared her secrets. She'd not only told him where the diadem was, but she'd told him of the other founders' objects, too.

When she heard what had become of him, she was terrified of what her actions may have led to.

9. She swore to tell no one. When other students asked her of the diadem, she refused to speak of it. Or to them. And she never, ever, told anyone that she'd shared her secrets with Tom Riddle.

Not until the battle was about to begin. When Hogwarts – her responsibility, still, whether she wanted it or not – was in danger. When hundreds of innocent children were at risk. When the whole world would suffer if she did not confess. And so she told Harry Potter.

There was no long talks, no developing trust, no flattery or friendship. No understanding, no charming, no patience. He was almost yelling at her, impatient and annoyed. Desperate. And she knew, even though she didn't know why, she knew that he needed the diadem to beat Tom.

And once she'd told him, she slipped up to the Ravenclaw tower, watching, waiting, for Tom to come, knowing that he wasn't the boy she thought she'd known. And later, much later, she slipped into the chamber his body was kept in. And scarcely recognised the man before her.

She might have greived for the loss of the boy, had she not known what he'd become, and how little she'd meant for him.

10. She expected Harry Potter to tell the world about her. Her true identity, and her crimes. She expected it to be in the papers, the magazines, the books. She expected to have students surrounding her, pestering her, judging her.

But it didn't happen. No one knew her true identity, no one questioned her – no more than they did the other ghosts, that is – no one hounded her. As far as she can tell, he didn't even tell his own children, though from the way James Potter looked at her, spoke to her, she thought he may suspect. She will always be grateful that he kept her shameful secrets, but always regret that she had to share them.


	79. Argus Filch

Well I'm not sure if this was even requested, or if anyone actually cares about Filch. I actually don't myself, and didn't consider him, until this just came to me. It pretty much wrote itself.

79. Filch

1. He loved the stories about magic. His parents told him all about stuff they'd done as kids, and he loved watching them perform spells, make potions. Sometimes, his mum would talk him through the potions she was making, giving him tips – "When you make this one at Hogwarts, you'll want to add just a little pinch of this Argus. It'll thicken it a little bit..."; "If it doesn't turn the right colour straight away, add a few extra turns. Doesn't work with all potions, but it should help with this one..."; "You have to be completely accurate with the beetle eyes, Argus. Weigh it, make sure it's right – don't just guess. It's very important..." He filed it all away, determined to remember it for when he needed.

His father would give him tips on spells, if he asked. "You've got to tilt the wand up a bit for this one – see? Lots of people don't, and it doesn't work right..."; "It's like making an "S" with it, see? Wave it in a "S" shape..."; "Always, always remember, son, to pronounce the incantation properly. You've no idea what could go wrong if you don't..."

He filed all those tips away, too, certain that one day he'd be the best wizard there was.

2. His parents were both pure-bloods. Or near enough. They weren't obsessive with it, weren't particularly proud of it – for them, it was just something they were, and had little bearing on anything. But, much later, he'd think it would have been easier on him if they'd been muggle-borns, or half-bloods. Easier to understand.

When he reached his sixth birthday, his parents started looking a little nervous. Asking if he'd done anything strange, anything magic. To which he replied, unconcerned, "Nope."

The months passed, his parents getting more and more nervous, with him not knowing why. Then he reached his seventh birthday. And his parents asked again if he'd done anything strange, magical. Then they started testing him, trying to get some magic from him.

And when nothing happened, they sat him down and told him not to worry, not to get upset, and that they weren't angry or disappointed. But that it was very possible that he wasn't a wizard after all.

3. They explained it very gently, tried not to make a big deal out of it. But he knew what a squib was. And he knew that it was shameful. They tried to act like it didn't bother them, but Argus knew they wanted a wizard for a son, not a squib. His father even took him to St. Mungo's a few times – where they confirmed he had no magic, and said there was nothing they could do. His mother had meetings at Hogwarts, trying to find out if they'd accept him there, if they could teach him. Which they wouldn't, couldn't. Eventually, when he was nine, they gave up, told him he'd have to go to a muggle school. To live as a muggle. Even if, during the summer he was eleven, they both anxiously waited for a letter that never came.

4. His parents had been young when they'd had him, and when he was ten they'd had another child. A daughter. Argus loved her, straight away. Until she was four – when she performed her first magic. Then he realised that was why his parents had had another kid – because they'd wanted a magical one. His sister didn't understand why he suddenly turned cold towards her, nor did his brother – born when his sister was two – when the same thing happened to him.

It didn't seem fair to Filch, that he'd been born without magic and his siblings had not.

5. Once he left home, he had little contact with his family. His mother tried to force him to visit, and turned up uninvited. He treated her cruelly, sending her away, refusing to see her. Eventually, she stopped trying, and his father came to see him, angry, shouting that he'd made his mother cry far too many times now, and that couldn't he see how much this was hurting her?

He never apologised. Cut off all contact. Ignored the birthday and Christmas presents each year. Because it hurt too much to be around his family – to see his siblings casting spells, making potions. To see what he was sure was disappointment in his parents' eyes. So he cut himself off, tried to settle himself in the muggle world, and ignored where he'd come from.

It was one thing that never changed for him, not even after the war.

6. He hadn't expected Hogwarts to hire him. He'd just subscribed to the prophet, deciding to keep track of what was going on in the world he should belong to. And he saw the advert for a caretaker at the school. It was a moment of desperation, of longing to be part of that world. The interview was humiliating, having to admit that he wasn't even really a wizard. But, to his immense surprise, he was offered the job.

He'd thought, though, that it would be enjoyable. That he'd been almost like a real wizard. Instead, he was tormented – all these stupid, bratty kids, with magic they didn't deserve. And the resentment grew, and grew, and turned bitter, until even the sight of those ungrateful little brats filled him with anger and hatred. He hated them, for having what he did not, and for showing it at every opportunity. Hated that he had to clean up the mess from their stupid mistakes – when he, had he had the chance, would never have made a single mistake.

7. The Kwikspell course was his last hope. He'd tried everything else over the years – supposedly charmed objects and amulets, potions and powders that were supposed to give him powers, tablets and plants and rituals. This was his last chance, and he was so desperate for it to work. It was humiliating, of course, to have the Potter boy find it – and no doubt to tell all his snotty little friends – but he consoled himself with the thought that he'd be able to curse the little urchin soon.

He was distracted when his cat was petrified – and convinced it had been Potter, no matter what Dumbledore said. Mrs Norris was the only creature he could trust, his only friend, the only one who didn't look down on him because he was a squib. With her gone, he felt so much lonelier. And doubled his Kwikspell efforts, thinking that he could somehow help her if only he was magic – or, if he'd been magic before, he could have protected her.

So when, after several months, there'd been no change in him, when he still couldn't cast any spell – couldn't even get a damn wand to make sparks – he was crushed. And even setting the Kwikspell stuff on fire didn't help. Even getting Mrs Norris back was scarcely comfort – he'd been so sure this one would work.

8. He didn't show it – he'd grown good at suppressing his emotions over the years – but Voldemort's return terrified him. Not that he believed it at first, what with Dumbledore being senile, and the Potter boy being an attention seeking, arrogant little...Well, he didn't believe either of them, and was sure that if it was true, the ministry would know, and act about it, instead of sending Umbridge. (Who, incidentally, he liked a lot and was very sad to see leave.)

But then no one was denying it anymore, and everything was getting worse. And he was terrified – because he was a squib, little better than a muggle-born. His blood may protect him for a short while, but his lack of magic would count against him, he knew. It had been bad enough the first time round – though he'd felt safe at Hogwarts at that time. Now, though, he had no faith in Dumbledore, sure that the new-and-improved Voldemort wouldn't be afraid of one stupid old man.

9. And then that stupid old man was dead, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort had control of the school. He considered running, hiding. Going abroad would be safest. He even went so far to pack away some of his most important possessions, just in case he had to run quickly – though in that situation, he was sure he probably be dead before he could even get to his suitcase, never mind run. But he packed his stuff up anyway, was careful to keep Mrs Norris close at all times, and...and then he relaxed a little. Because Snape was headmaster, and he and Snape had always got on well. Snape wouldn't let anything happen to him.

The Carrows were a different story. Their disdain for him was clear – and it was obvious the only reason they didn't get rid of him was because of Snape. And, as much as he hated the students, he hated cleaning up the bloodstains on the floors, too. Hated hearing the agonised screams as kids were tortured. Not that they didn't deserve it, he was sure, but still...He didn't sleep easy.

And he knew the whole damn world were pinning their hopes on Potter. Who was still just a snotty kid, and would obviously be no good against Voldemort.

10. When McGonagall announced that Voldemort was on his way to the school he felt all the blood drain from his face. His heart began to beat at twice its normal rate. Thankfully, thankfully there was a safe way out, and he could leave. It was frustrating, trying to get all the stupid kids through first, when half of them were pushing each other trying to get out, and the other half were refusing to leave until they'd found their siblings, or their friends. And he just wanted to leave, to get as far away as possible, before Voldemort had killed Potter and McGonagall and all the students and teachers who'd stayed, and came after the rest of them.

He ended up hanging around in Hogsmeade, though. Because Madam Pince did. He'd long since had a soft spot for her, and she looked so scared when she said she wanted to wait, to see what became of the castle and its occupants. So he sat with her – and several students – in the Hog's Head, listening to the sounds of the castle and waiting.

The news that Harry Potter had killed Voldemort almost gave him a heart attack. He had never been so shocked in his life. And then looking at what was left of the castle almost did the same. As much as he'd hated it, Hogwarts was his home. He lived there year round, and it was practically destroyed.

It never was the same again. These days, half the wings still look new, and it still feels different to how it used to. Newer, yes. And the new parts of it hold no history, like they used to. And the old parts...they seem to have an atmosphere, to him at least. As if the walls and floors and ceilings remember what happened within the space they create, remember who died and who lived. As if they retain the pain that was felt, the imprint of the blood that was shed. And though he has never left the castle – and never will, until the day he dies – he hates being in the old, atmospheric parts, as much as he hates the new, cold parts. Hogwarts just isn't the same for him, and he hates it.


	80. Dolores Umbridge

LOOK - LOOK AT THE REVIEWS! THAT'S 2000! OK, caps lock can go off now. But really, wow. I've only just seen it, and now I'm unbelievably giddy. 2000. That's...I can't even put it into words, but thank you all so, so much. Really. Virtual hugs for everyone. Special thanks to those who review every chapter. Wow. It might take days to get over this shock.

Oh, and this isn't a character I'd have done if it hadn't been requested, and I'm not sure how well it came out. I may have been a little...harsh about her character. May not fit too well...then again...

80. Umbridge

1. She was a rather lonely child. She was educated, prior to Hogwarts, in a nearby muggle school, as both her parents worked and neither had the time nor the inclination to teach her how to read and write and add up. So she went to the muggle school, where the other kids laughed at her strange clothes, and called her a liar when she tried to tell them about magic. Trying, of course, to make herself seem important to the other students. She was bossy and smug, the classic teacher's pet, always telling tales, and even sometimes asking for homework, to get her revenge on the classmates who picked on her.

But she sort of wished for a friend. Just one person, who didn't laugh at her clothes, who didn't sneer that she was lying when she'd talk about magic, who didn't shoot her looks of disgust. But she didn't get one, and told herself she didn't want to be friends with stupid muggles anyway.

Maybe that was the birth of her disdain for non-magical creatures.

2. She couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts. To be amongst her equals. Where she was sure she'd make lots of friends, and no one would laugh at her or call her a liar or push her to the ground. She'd be given the respect she craved, and she'd finally be happy. Away from stupid muggles. She couldn't wait to get there, and was one of the first people on the train. She expected to have made thousands of friends by the time they reached the castle, and went into several compartments. The older students simply looked at her blankly, asked each other if she was any relation to anyone, then sent her away. The first years gave her a chance to talk to them, and seemed to not like her.

By the time she'd reached Hogwarts, she was still friendless, but certain that that would change.

3. She wasn't nervous about her sorting. It didn't really matter where she ended up – she considered herself to possess all the qualities needed for any house, was certain that she could fit into any house. So when she sat on the stool, she sweetly told the hat to take it's time, as she was sure it would be a difficult decision. To which the hat replied, rather curtly, "Actually, it isn't," and pronounced her a Slytherin. Which she was content with, as her father had been one.

She wasn't exactly a pure-blood, though. Her maternal grandmother had been muggle-born, and her maternal grandfather a half-blood. Not, of course, that she admitted it, announcing that she was a pure-blood, that her family could be traced back through seventeen generations on both sides. Which wasn't strictly true. In all honesty, she doubted they could be traced through seven generations. When she heard other names of people who said they were pure-blood, she'd say brightly, "You know, I think my mother had a cousin with that surname," or "I'm sure that was my father's aunt's maiden name..." desperately trying to emphasise her pure-blood credentials.

4. Hogwarts was harder than she'd anticipated. She'd expected it all to come naturally, for everything to be easy. And it wasn't. There was just so much stuff to remember – stupid, mundane stuff. The first few lessons of everything were spent making notes, which she was supposed to learn. Then there was all the little things she had to know to cast spells properly – how to hold the wand, how exactly to pronounce the words – elongating certain syllables – and there was potions, too. How certain ingredients had to be measured exactly, and other ones had to be cut to the perfect size...it was all rather tedious. And History of Magic – what was the point in it? She began, early on, to see herself as better than Hogwarts, better than the students, better than the teachers. And one day, she thought one night halfway through her second year, she'd be in control of this school, and it would run _her_ way.

5. She never considered any career outside the ministry. She thought she could rise up the ranks, end up as Minister. Maybe. She wasn't sure if she wanted that – surely it would be a lot of boring work? But the control she'd have...She decided, after she started at the ministry, that she'd wait and see where things went. Which was a first for her, because she never liked being out of control and she didn't believe in fate. But she resolved to work hard – or at least make sure it appeared she was working hard – to take any promotion that came her way, and see where she ended up.

6. She disliked Fudge, instantly. He was an annoying, self-doubting little man, who looked to others for reassurance. But he was the Minister, and so it was easy enough to pretend to admire and like him. And it worked – she worked her way to the top of his own office, and had him wrapped around her finger. She offered him all the reassurance he needed, and when he came to her and told her that Harry Potter and Dumbledore were saying You-Know-Who had returned, she agreed that it couldn't be possible, and that they were just causing trouble. She herself leaked a lot of things about Dumbledore to the _Prophet_, that Fudge would have kept quiet out of lingering respect for the man. She thought, later, that if she hadn't been reinforcing Fudge's belief that Dumbledore and the boy were lying, he'd probably have faltered and gone back to Dumbledore with apologies. Which would have been quite disastrous – because this was her chance to get to Hogwarts. To _own_ Hogwarts.

7. She disliked Harry Potter straight away. Not only was he telling stupid lies, he obviously thought himself better than her. More important, just because of some stupid scar on his forehead. Plus, he was a Gryffindor, and teacher or not, she was automatically opposed to them. And he knew where Sirius Black was hiding – if she could catch the criminal, she would definitely be the next minister...But the boy, he was so infuriating. And she loved, very much, watching the blood appear on the back of his hand, watching pain pass across his face the first few times he'd write the line, before he adjusted to it.

And loved, very much, banning him and those horrible twins from Quidditch. Watching the shock and hate and grief flash over his face when she said it. Wasn't it amusing that the boy should grieve for the loss of a silly game?

Oh, she loved it. Loved watching him and his classmates suffer.

8. Well, it was a shock that Voldemort was, in fact, back. Of course it was. But she couldn't help think it may be a good thing, in the long run. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named pretty much shared her disdain for all things non-magic, didn't he? And if he were to slay or take control of the muggles, it could hardly be a bad thing. Not that she'd admit that aloud, of course. No, she was good at saying and doing the right things. And she did fear him, after all.

But she wasn't exactly upset when the ministry fell under his control. And when she got a whole new department to run...All in all, she was pretty happy with it, even if it was a little awkward to pretend not to know the new minister was under an imperious curse. She loved the power, the control. Loved seen sobbing faces and wide, terrified eyes.

But she wasn't worried about it ending. Not, obviously, that she believed Harry Potter could possibly defeat You-Know-Who, but she knew that the Order of the Phoenix were working to defeat him, and that they very well may have something that could do it. But she wasn't worried about it, as if his regime ended, she was sure she'd be rewarded for still getting on with her job, remaining loyal to the ministry, despite her better judgment. Or so she'd claim.

9. The reports that Harry Potter and his little followers had broken into Gringotts came quickly. And she laughed, believing it to be some silly joke, or misunderstanding. And then, when she realised it was true, the rage came. It was bad enough that he'd somehow managed to get into the ministry, and then get out alive – freeing a large amount of mudbloods in the process – but to break into then out of Gringotts? She couldn't believe it, refused to accept it, and had already given orders for a high-priority investigation into the incident, insisting he must have had inside help.

Then, when the news came that You-Know-Who was dead, that Potter had actually managed to kill him, she couldn't believe it. She pretended to be pleased, as she was with several people, but she was seething. And then she started the paperwork for his arrest, pointing out that he had several warrants out for him – even disregarding the ones You-Know-Who had set up, he'd broken several laws – breaking into the ministry, breaking into the bank, breaking into the school – and she was determined to make something stick, to get him thrown into Azkaban...

Instead, within twenty-four hours, she'd been arrested herself.

10. She didn't believe she'd be convicted. The first trial went on for days, with so much evidence against her, and her defence of having no choice. But she was found guilty of crimes against muggle-borns, and sent to Azkaban. Even dementor-free it was a horrible place. She appealed against her conviction, of course. It took a whole year before the re-trial, as there was so many others to be dealt with beforehand. And she lost the appeal, too.

She lived in Azkaban for almost twenty years before she died. Death was welcome, for her; she'd hated every minute of Azkaban.


	81. Merope Gaunt

81. Merope

1. Her earliest memory is of being shouted at. Cowering in a corner, shaking in fear, while her father yelled at her. She doesn't remember why, doesn't even remember exactly what he said, but she remembers the pure, dark fear. She would have been about five at the time – a little late for her first memory, but she doubts there was anything else of interest before that – and she honestly believed her father was going to kill her. He didn't; instead he left her where she was, stormed out. She stayed in the corner for a little while longer, not daring to move, to speak, to cry.

The years that followed are scattered with similar events, similar feelings. Her childhood a blur of pain and fear. And somewhere in it, was the desperate hope that one day, she'd be free. She'd be away from her father and her brother and this horrible house. She'd be loved, and happy.

She held onto the hope like a lifeline, the only thing that got her through the darkness.

2. She doesn't remember her mother at all. She was told, at some point, that she'd died giving birth to her. It had been her brother who'd told her, and refused to say anymore. Her father didn't even acknowledge her questions. She was never told her mother's name, never shown any pictures, never told anything about her. She didn't know if her mother had loved her father, or if her father had loved her mother. Didn't know if her mother had wanted children. If her mother had wanted a daughter. For a long time, she'd kept a fantasy going, where her mother hadn't really died, but her father had taken her and Morfin and left. And her mother was desperate to find them, and one day she'd turn up on the doorstep, sobbing and saying how much she'd missed her, how much she loved her. And then she'd take her – and only her, because Morfin would want to stay with their father – she'd take her, and they'd go away. And finally, finally Merope would be happy.

Until she was ten, she told herself that it _would_ happen, believing completely in it. Then she couldn't fight the doubts anymore, and admitted to herself that it wasn't a definite. So between ten and fourteen she told herself it _could_ happen. And then at fourteen, she couldn't keep that fantasy alive anymore. And she accepted that her mother would never come for her; that the woman who'd birthed her had died doing so.

3. At first, when her father would lecture her that the locket around her neck was Slytherin's, she felt proud. That he considered her important enough to wear the locket. And in her desperation to be loved, she thought that the locket around her neck was a symbol that her father did, deep down, love her. Why else would he let her wear it? So for a little while, she liked wearing the locket, was pleased by the weight of it.

And then Morfin saw her toying with it. _Don't let dad see your filthy hands on that_. He'd told her. "I-It's mine." She'd said uncertainly, because by that point her brother scared her a bit. He'd laughed at that. _It's not yours. It's his, and one day it will be mine. He makes you wear it to make you seem less worthless._ She'd known, the second he'd said it, that it was true. And she'd let the locket drop through her fingers cast her eyes down. _It's not working._ Morfin had added, taunting her. _Still worthless, aren't you? He knows it's not working – he'd take it off you, but it's woman's stuff, isn't it? Me and him can't wear it._

He'd have continued tormenting her, and would have reduced her to tears, if she'd hadn't fled the room, the locket banging again her chest, a cruel reminder of the things he'd said. From that moment on, she'd hated the thing, despised it. If she hadn't known her father would have killed her for it, she'd have ripped it off and thrown it as far away as possible.

4. She'd wanted to go to Hogwarts. Her father had told her about it, during one of his lectures about their ancestors. And when she'd asked why she didn't attend – she'd been twelve at that point – he'd glared at her.

_Salazar left because the school wasn't good enough for him._ He'd snarled in parceltongue, which she'd always struggled with. _It's not good enough for us, either_. Then he'd looked her up and down, narrowed his eyes. _Besides, they wouldn't let you in. Too stupid, aren't you?_

But she'd remembered, the year before, a letter addressed to her. She hadn't read it – she couldn't read very well – but she'd recognised her name, and she was sure that the letter had been offering her a place at the school. She couldn't help but bitterly think that she'd have loved to be away from her father and brother, that she'd have learned magic properly, and have been happy there.

5. She noticed Tom Riddle the first time he'd passed the house. He'd ridden by on his horse, so fast he was a blur. She'd been amazed, having never seen a horse before, never mind someone travelling so fast on one, and had stood by the window watching, hoping he'd ride by again. And he had done, a little while later. Slower, this time, the horse walking. And she'd been entranced by him. Amazed by the creature he was riding, of course, but more so by him. He was the only other human she'd seen, and even when she'd realised he wasn't a wizard, she hadn't cared. She'd watched for him many times, and by the first time she'd heard him speak – talking to the horse, which seemed to be limping – she'd been in love with him. And she'd been so despressed, because of course he'd never love her back, of course she'd never get a chance to even speak to him, of course he wouldn't even notice her.

6. And then her father and brother were gone. Actually gone. And she was all alone, and free. It was amazing, even if she had no money and little magical ability, that made things difficult. And after a while her magic seemed better, stronger. And, still desperate to be loved, and still in love with Riddle, she started to form a plan. She wasn't exactly smart, but she was determined to pull this off, and knew she'd only get one chance at it. So she dug out her father's old potions book, found the strongest love potion, and made it, again and again and again, until she was sure she had it perfect. She used up most of her father's ingredients, but felt it would be worth it. She could buy more, after all. Tom was rich, and once in love with her, he'd look after her, the way she'd always wanted someone to.

So she made the potion one final time, and poured some into a glass she'd carefully cleaned. Then waiting, by the front door. As his horse rode by, she sent out a quick jinx, making the creature fall. She'd rushed out, offered to help, held out the glass to him. And he'd looked at it in wonder, sniffing the substance.

"What is this?" He asked her. "It's like...but...Can I have a drink?" She nodded eagerly, told him to have the whole glass. As he'd drank, she'd busied herself with his horse, making sure she hadn't done any permanent damage. And then he'd finished the glass, and was looking at her, with such love in his eyes...She knew it wasn't real. A part of her knew that. But she needed to believe that it could be real – that once they'd been together for a while he'd really love her.

"Who – Who are you?" He'd whispered, and she'd quietly told him her first name. He'd traced a fingertip down her dirty face, asked her to come home with him, meet his family. Get married. And though she knew it was all the potion talking, she laughed, delighted. But she couldn't let him take her home. It would be difficult to keep making and administering the potion with his parents watching.

"Let's run away." She'd said brightly. "Let's run away and get married..."

7. She told him she was a witch, knowing the potion would stop him being afraid of her. And she took him to Diagon Alley, let him pay for her some more potion things, and all the other little things they'd need. Then he'd bought them a little house to live in, and bought her clothes and presents and everything she'd ever wanted. Maybe she shouldn't have taken advantage of him like that, but she couldn't help it. She let him provide for her, and kept giving him the potion.

And then she was pregnant. And it was amazing for her – Tom's baby, she was going to have Tom's baby. He was thrilled by the news. And she was so happy, imagining them as a little family, in their house. She wanted a daughter, she decided. A little girl. And they'd be so happy together and...and...She wanted Tom to love their child. To really love it, not just because of her potion. And, she realised, she wanted him to love her, too. Was it fair on the baby – or on herself – to keep up this charade? Was it fair to give her child the shallowest kind of love? No. They couldn't live that way. She had to do this properly, for their child's sake, for her own, and even for Tom's.

8. She thought it all through, how exactly she'd do it. She'd keep some potion on the table with her, just in case. Not, of course, that she'd need it. Surely by now he'd love her? And instead of giving him another dose one morning, she let the potion wear off. She watched it happen, the love on his face dim, and turn into confusion. And she took a deep breath and explained. That she was a witch, and that she'd used a potion to make him love her. That they were going to have a baby, and they didn't need to potion anymore because he loved her properly now, didn't he?

And he'd looked at her in fear and shock and something she refused to recognise as disgust, told her that he didn't love her – would never love someone like her – and demanded she let him leave. She tried to make him drink more potion, but didn't force it when he refused the drink. She'd felt sick, miserable. He didn't love her. "The baby – our baby..." She told him.

He'd looked thoughtful, for a moment. "It'd be like you, wouldn't it?" He said, his face hard, his eyes cold. "Not human."

"It's human – I'm human. Just a little different – Tom don't leave us!" She was begging, desperate. "You're baby – think of your baby..."

"It's no child of mine." He sneered at her, and walked away. What else could she do but watch him walk away from her?

9. She was kicked out of the house. He'd sold it, without telling her. He hadn't been in contact with her at all. She took the few belongings she had, and had to leave. Distraught, she travelled back to his home, and tried to make him speak with her. His mother was the only one who'd talk to her, standing in the doorway telling her that Tom refused to see her. "I'm sorry." The woman had said, looking sympathetic. She could see Merope was pregnant, and didn't believe her son's stories of magic and trickery. Instead, she'd thought that Tom had had an affair with the her, then ran away with the poor girl, filled her head with promises, then gotten bored with her, or scared when she got pregnant. And she was angry with him for it, but, well...She could hardly accept the girl into the family. It wouldn't be right. So she gave her some money, and told her she'd have to go. "Once the baby's born, bring it here." She told her. "I'd like to see it. And maybe Tom will work something out with you."

Merope had nodded miserable, tucking the muggle money in her pocket.

"And if you – if you can't cope with the child...well, we'd be happy to take him in. I mean, you're hardly more than a child yourself...He or she would be looked after here." Merope had nodded again, knowing that Tom wouldn't let his mother take her child into their home. No, she'd manage, somehow. She just didn't know how. For now, she decided, she'd have to sell some things. Starting with the locket she hated so much.

10. She knew that she was having the baby, now, and was terrified. She was homeless, alone, and didn't have a single coin to her name. And so she staggered around London, looking for any place that looked safe enough to give birth. She was crying by the time she saw the orphanage. Surely they'd take her in, help her, she thought desperately, and staggered up the steps. They let her in, got her comfortable, told her to relax. The labour progressed quickly, and she realised that there was blood staining the sheets – far too much blood. And she knew that she wasn't going to survive this. She was going to die, just like her mother had. She was going to die and leave her child alone, and she hardly even cared. The baby would be better off without her, she was sure. What did she have to offer? No home, no money? They'd both die, she knew. The child would be better off here, where it would be fed and clothed and have a roof to live under.

"It's a boy!" The woman announced, lifting him into the air. She hadn't wanted a boy – men had always treated her cruelly, and she'd wanted a daughter. But it didn't matter now, did it? She muttered that she hoped he looked like his father – because she had, at least, loved him, and that was better than her son looking like her father or Morfin. And she didn't want him to be a wizard, either. Magic, she felt, had ruined her life. Maybe if he looked like Tom, then Tom's mother would find him and take him in.

He was wrapped in a blanket, handed to her. She was dying, she could feel it. And she was still bleeding.

"His name is Tom." She told the closest woman, gripping her wrist. "Please – Tom, after his father. And..." She hesitated, because she knew her father was dead by now. Killed, because she'd ran away, stolen his things, sold them. "And Marvolo. After mine. Will you remember that – make sure?"

"Yes. Of course." The woman assured her. So they all knew she was dying then, and there was nothing they could do about it. Merope leaned back against the wall, feeling weaker and weaker. "And Riddle – his surname is to be Riddle."

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." The other woman nodded. "I'll see to it. You relax now."

Merope nodded, closed her eyes, her child still in her arms. And murmured her son's name as her last words.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle."


	82. Augusta Longbottom

Been thinking of doing Neville's Grandma for a while, so here she finally is. I'm not exactly pleased with it - she turned out harder than I expected.

82. Augusta

1. She was an awkward child. Nervous, self-conscious, uncomfortable around new people, or people she didn't know very well. She was, between the ages of eight and fourteen, painfully shy. At fourteen, she resolved to be more confident. It didn't work much, but she learned to worry less about what people thought, and managed to talk a little more. Still, she wasn't one of the confident girls, and she hated the ones who were. Hated the girls who could walk into a room and talk to everyone in it. Hated the girls who would answer questions in class without bother to even raise their hands – while she, if called upon, would go bright red, and mutter her answer to the floor.

2. She struggled with her school work. More out of nerves than lack of talent, though there were some subjects – Charms, for one – that she had little ability for. This made her more self-conscious, of course, which made her more nervous, and made her struggle more. She was distraught by the time her O.W.Ls rolled around, convinced that she'd fail everything. Which she, in fact, did not. Though she failed Charms, and one or two other things, which she insists were not important anyway. Her N.E.W.Ts scared her even more, however, because she felt they were more important. She threw herself into her studies, and managed to pass everything, though not with the top grades she'd wished for.

3. She was scared when she left Hogwarts. Scared that the security of it was gone, and scared of having to work. And so she chose not to have any kind of career – instead she got married. It wasn't uncommon in those days, and she felt that it wasn't an easy option. She thought no less of herself for choosing that lifestyle. Within a few months, however, she grew bored of simply running a house, and decided she wanted to be a mother.

And so by the time she hit twenty, she had her son.

4. Frank was the light of her life. She loved her husband, but this was different. This was stronger. Frank was the most important thing to her – Frank was her life. She loved every little thing about him, and she loved how well behaved he was. She never seriously considered more children - he was perfect, and she didn't see what more she could ask for. She didn't exactly understand him – he was so serious, always thinking, and it unnerved her a little – but they were close.

And then he was eleven. And preparing to leave. To go away to Hogwarts – and it terrified her. She'd lose him, she was sure she would. What if he made lots of friends and never bothered to write home? What if he changed? What if he came back a completely different person, one she didn't know and couldn't talk to? What if he didn't love her anymore?

So when he admitted that he wasn't sure he wanted to go to Hogwarts, she was immensely relieved. She'd keep him at home, teach him herself and –

And her husband comforted Frank, insisted that he'd be fine at Hogwarts, to which he agreed and seemed convinced by. She was exceptionally upset when she waved goodbye to him, and it took her months to forgive him for leaving, and to forgive her husband for not letting him stay at home.

5. She was proud, when her son told her he was going to become an auror. But she was terrified, too. He was her only child, and she was terrified of losing him. Such a dangerous job – what would she do if he were killed? How would she ever survive that?

"Don't let him be killed." She whispered, the day he qualified. "Don't let him die." She was begging the universe itself. It never occurred to her to plead for more than just his life – to plead for his sanity, his future. But the war had just begun, and as far as she, and most others, saw it, there were only two possible outcomes – life and death.

6. She was a little upset that he was getting married. Her son, her baby, all grown up and working was one thing. But married? It was as if she'd been slowly losing him over the last few years, and this was the final step. She wouldn't be the most important woman in his life anymore. His wife would. But at least she liked Alice, approved of her. And, she knew, she would still be a part of Frank's life – even if she had to fight for it, she'd make sure she was still there.

And then he had a child. A baby. She didn't feel old enough to be a Grandma, but she fell in love with the baby straight away. He reminded her so much of Frank, though everyone insisted he looked more like Alice. She would, she vowed, be the best Grandma in the world.

7. It was her husband who broke the news. She never found out who told him, but he sat her down, told her to listen. She'd been looking after Neville, and he was asleep in the next room. She sat on a chair at the kitchen table, and he sat opposite her, took her hand. She couldn't stop looking at that, their joined hands. It was a sign something was wrong, she knew. Her first thought was that her son was...

"He's alive." Her husband said softly. "Augusta, he's alive. But he and Alice were attacked."

She said something there, though she never remembered exactly what. Denials – because Voldemort was gone, now, and they were safe. Frank and Alice _couldn't_ have been attacked. And yet, just half an hour later, her son, the little boy she'd watched grow into the perfect man, was looking at her blankly.

"Frank, it's me." She said softly. She didn't care that the healers said he was insane, had no idea who he was, or who she was. She was his mother, of course he'd recognise her. "It's mum, Frank." He kept looking blankly at her. There wasn't even puzzlement – he wasn't trying to remember who she was; he didn't care. She gripped one of his hands tightly in hers, and felt her heart break.

8. They took Neville in. It was only natural, of course. But it was so hard. Not that actually looking after him, but having him there. Looking up at her, reminding her more and more of her son. Or looking around, obviously searching for his parents. And as he got older, she struggled to explain what had happened to his parents. She wanted him to be Frank. A part of her knew that, and a part of her knew it was wrong to be disappointed, and even angry, when he acted nothing like her son. She'd hoped it would be like having Frank back; but Neville was his very own person.

And then her husband died. Neville had seen it, and she never forgot the sight of the eight year old boy stood in front of the lifeless body, his eyes wide and unblinking, pure fear on his face. She was distraught, and not until much later, when the body had been removed, did she realise he was sat on a chair in the corner, where one of her relatives had moved him to, his eyes still wide, and his small body shaking violently. He was all she had, and she was terrified of losing him. That night she hugged him, and let him cry. And that was the last time she let herself show him any affection, terrified that if she showed people she loved him, he'd be taken from her, too.

When he started Hogwarts – and thank God he'd actually got in – she was frustrated by his lack of obvious talent. Frank had been so smart, so brave, so talented, and Neville wasn't. She was sharp with him, often too sharp, she knew. She'd hoped to make him better, motivate him. Instead – and she didn't even realise it until much later – he was hurting him.

9. She was thrilled that Neville was getting involved in the war. Scared for him, of course. But thrilled – because it was exactly what Frank would have done, flying off to the ministry or defending the school against Death Eaters. And finally, finally he was behaving like his father. Which is exactly what she told him, a few days before he returned to Hogwarts. She'd said something about how, if he was too afraid to go back to the castle, he could go stay with one of her old friends in Japan. Far enough away to be safe, she told him, and her friend had lived there for years, so she'd make sure he managed OK in an unfamiliar country. He looked at her blankly for a moment, then told her that he was going back to Hogwarts, that he wasn't going to hide away, but face up to it and do what he could. Her eye had filled with tears – well, not exactly filled, but a few of them had formed – and she'd said he was behaving like his father. His eyes went suddenly cold, his face blank. And then he spoke.

"I'm not my father, Gran. I'm Neville, not Frank, and I never will be him. It's time you accepted that." And he stood and left the room.

She did accept it; and she accepted that he was no longer a little boy, but a grown man.

But it wasn't until that night, when Voldemort was finally killed, that she realised she had a pretty great grandson. She was finally proud of him, for being him, and for the first time she stopped letting herself believe Frank would be back one day.

10. She tells the children war stories. They get a lot of information from Neville, of course, and Hannah – who initially reminded her of Alice, though she later realised they were nothing alike – and so she tells them very little about that era. No, when her great-grandchildren are at her house, she tells them about the first time round, and about their paternal grandparents. If Neville's there, he listens, too, though pretends not to. She regrets that she never told him any of the stories when he was young, but hopes that this is making up for it. Even if little Mitch once told her it's hard to believe his grandfather did any of that, seeing as now he doesn't even speak. That hurt, and she wasn't sorry that Hannah hastily made excuses for them to leave. But mostly, they're captivated. And she's always careful to make sure that while they'd know how brave their parents and grandparents were, they don't feel any pressure to be the same.


	83. Rowena Ravenclaw

Big thanks for all the reviews. Really, still not over the shock of them.

Rowena, because I already had half her story in my head. But I don't know if I'll do the other founders, I'll have to see if I can think of anything for them.

83. Rowena

1. When she was a child, there were no magical schools. Children were taught magic by their parents, and so the magical knowledge of the child reflected that of their parents. Rowena's parents, though rather talented, had taught her all they knew by the time she was twelve. At first, they'd been rather ashamed, believing this to be a negative indication of their own abilities. Soon, however, they realised it was sign that of their daughters brains – that she understood and mastered anything they taught her remarkably quickly. From that age, they travelled around the country, seeking the brightest magical minds. She was taught by anyone who knew anything she didn't, was taught spells that many wizards would never learn.

And though she understood the advantage it was going to be, and though she loved to learn, she resented, greatly, that she was considered to be simply a brilliant mind, rather than a human, and resented that she hadn't had a proper home throughout her teenage years, instead being dragged around the country while her parents tried to find something more to teach her. They never seemed to understand – and she quickly gave up trying to tell them – that she would have been happy to stop learning.

2. She was twenty-two when the idea of a magical school first occurred to her. She was, of course, too old to be ruled by her parents, and had settled herself, finding a small house and writing books; volumes of spells, potions, and any other information she felt ought to be recorded. She sold them when it became necessary, but preferred to give them away, insisting they be passed on when they were no longer useful to the original owner. She hoped to prevent anyone else having to travel to learn. And it occurred to her, one rainy afternoon as she penned a book on Animagi, that it would be convenient if there was one place where young witches and wizards could go to learn; one location where all they could be taught as much as possible. A place that would last forever, that would exist long after she was dead, long after her books had faded, so that magic could be taught for all eternity.

At first, she dismissed the notion, telling herself that frivolous dreams were impractical. But the notion rooted in her mind, and by the time she met Helga, the dream didn't seem so impractical.

3. It didn't take long for her to share the idea with Helga. The woman was so obviously loyal that she inspired confidence; Rowena knew that the idea would be carefully considered, and an honest opinion would be offered, without any cruelty. And she was correct.

Helga loved the idea, and excitedly told Rowena that this was their purpose; that this was the sole reason they'd been given life. And though Rowena didn't really believe that, she found herself just as eager to create the place. It was Helga who suggested they involve one of her old friends in the plans; and Godric brought Salazar into the plan. Helga insisted that this was right, this was how it was supposed to be – the four of them and no others.

4. She came up with the name. It just occurred to her, right after they'd chosen the location. She insisted that it was something people would remember, something that would make them stop and think. It would capture attention, she announced. It was also she who designed most of the castle, talking the others into having moving staircases, trick doors, hidden passageways. The castle, she told the others, had to be fun, interesting, or the children would not wish to keep attending. If they were to build a plain, cold castle, the students would not enjoy learning – and she was adamant that it had to be enjoyable. They worked out exactly what they'd teach, and who it would be taught by. And, when the castle was half-built, they decided to separate the children, by their qualities, in order to make sure that they would be comfortable in the castle – surely having lessons, sharing living quarters, with people similar to yourself, would make things easier?

She would always remember the first time the castle opened. They had only twenty students, and most were the children of friends or relatives, as the idea was so unheard off, and it wasn't easy to make sure everyone knew about it. But she didn't care; if only one student had arrived, she wouldn't have cared. Because the dream was finally real – and she knew that one day, the castle would be full.

5. Initially, the students would be at Hogwarts for a month before they were sorted. Then the founders would meet, and discuss each child in turn, to establish their qualities. It was possibly a degrading way of doing so, but it was effective; the founders would recognise the qualities they valued and take the students they wanted. After a few years, however, when the number of students was increasing, and the sorting was taking longer, they began to feel that maybe the system could be improved. That maybe there was a way for students to be sorted quicker, sooner. It was Godric who had the idea; that they could enchant a hat to do the sorting. A hat that would be able to look inside the children, to recognise their qualities, and to understand who belonged where. And, when the others agreed, he put his own hat on a table, and the four of them enchanted it together.

6. It was summer, seven years after Hogwarts had first opened its doors. She, and the other founders, were travelling, trying to recruit more students, promoting the school. And early one morning, while walking towards a largely magical village to mention Hogwarts, she found a man on the ground. He was bleeding heavily, and obviously close to death. Without thinking, she knelt beside him, and did what she could to stop the bleeding and heal the wound. She created a shelter around him, tried to make him comfortable, and sat with him all day, while he slept. There were a few moments where she was sure her efforts had failed and he was going to die after all. But, as the sky darkened, he woke.

He told her he'd been travelling to the same village as she, when he'd been robbed, and injured. And when he asked her how she managed to heal him, she'd known he wasn't a wizard; a few careful questions established that she was correct. By next morning, he was strong enough for them to travel to the village. And she found herself unable to leave him. She quickly fell in love with him, and let herself dream – she would take him back to Hogwarts; he could teach the students the ways of muggles, and they could marry.

She did little to promote the school, and stayed with him all summer. When the time came for her to return, she sat him down and spilled her secrets; telling him first that she was teacher, and then that she was a witch.

And he attempted to have her burned for witchcraft.

7. The other wizards and witches in the village helped her escape, and modified the memory of the muggles. She returned to Hogwarts, her heart broken, and told none of the founders what had happened.

Until she realised she was going to have a child. She told Helga, who made excuses to the others, spinning a tale which ended in the death of a wizard rather than the betrayal of a muggle. Helga, normally, wouldn't have even considered lying, but made the exception for Rowena. The story stayed between the founders, however; the students were never told anything about the father of Rowena's daughter, and she was thankful for this – neither the lie nor the truth was a story she wanted passed down through the generations. She vowed never even to tell her daughter, and made sure the others would not, either.

It wasn't easy, though. Many were curious, questions were asked. And she was terrified that Helena would one day begin to ask questions herself – but she didn't. Helena, it seemed, was unconcerned with the identity of her father. And Rowena soon learned to accept this – even if Helena's face resembled her father's.

8. She'd tried to ignore Salazar's prejudice. They all had. And it hadn't been difficult when he'd simply made sure only pure-bloods were sorted into his house. It had been harder when he'd become more vocal, when he'd been cruel to the muggle-borns.

And then, one day, he found out that one of the students in his house wasn't a pure-blood. The young boy, it transpired, had a muggle for a father. And Salazar went mad. The student was a third year; he was disgusted that the boy had been in his house for so long, that he'd been accepted in a place where Salazar didn't believe he belonged. She never learned how he found out, but witnessed the scene that followed; he dragged the boy from the dungeons, telling him to find another house, or even better to leave the school. He was screaming at the boy, and then rounded on Godric, convinced that he'd been tricked, that Godric had made his hat place the boy in the Slytherin house, out of spite or to prove a point.

And then, after the argument that followed, he left the castle. She ran after him, trying to convince him to stay, that the four of them were supposed to be at the castle.

He looked at her in disgust, and told her that he knew about Helena. That he knew she was a half-blood. And he'd told her he knew she cried at night over the muggle, and that she was a disgrace for doing so.

She'd taken an abrupt step back, as though slapped. And watched him leave.

9. She woke with a feeling. Dread, she realised later. It had been the heavy sensation of dread in her abdomen. She knew, instinctively, that something bad had happened, and had headed straight to her daughter's bedroom, fearing illness, or death. And had found an empty bed. She hadn't checked the drawers, the wardrobe, not thinking for a moment that her daughter would have left. Instead, she walked through the house, looking for her daughter, and finding nothing. Still, she didn't consider that Helena had left voluntarily, and because the fear rendered her unable to think straight, she went for the diadem, assuming it's power would help. And when she tugged open the drawer it rested in, she found only a piece of parchment, bearing her daughter's neat handwriting.

She burst into tears when she'd read the words. There was such spite in the words, and she couldn't accept that her daughter felt that way about her. She told herself it was just a temper, that Helena would come back in time, full of apologies and shame. For weeks she told no one what had happened, and then made excuses – Helena was visiting friends, Helena was staying with relatives, Helena was travelling, wanting to see the world. She never thought about the diadem, until the first time Godric asked where it was. Helena had been gone for seven months by then, and she was so worried about her. Why would she care about the diadem?

"It is lost." She replied shortly. And she repeated the statement, again and again, not caring if it was the truth or not. All she wanted was for her daughter to come home.

10. She knew she was dying. Rowena was the smartest witch of her age, and had vast medical knowledge. She had helped heal the wounded, and had learned to recognise when death was too close to be stopped. She didn't bother trying to prevent the end – but was desperate to see Helena once more. If she had to die, she would make peace with her daughter first. The Baron was the obvious choice – he knew Helena, as well as she would let anyone know her, and he wouldn't give up until he'd found her. So she waited, staying alive by sheer force of will.

And she she'd known this night would be her last. She could feel it, and she cried a little, because she thought it too late now; Helena wouldn't make it home in time. She settled into her room at the castle, and tried to fight it. Her eyes closed, though she didn't want them too. And then, she felt a sudden cold on her hand, and her eyes flicked open, to show her the ghostly figure of her daughter.

She knew it wasn't a dream, or a hallucination. This was real; her daughter was dead.

And though they'd met one final time, Rowena died distraught.


	84. Salazar Slytherin

Well, this one's...well, I think you can tell I wrote one half of it, then finished it a few days later. The Rowena stuff just came out, without me even thinking about it, and I couldn't write it another way, even though I'm not sure it works. And the last one I don't like at all, but it was all I could think off.

Sorry it's taken me so long, been busy.

84. Salazar

1. He was a sickly child. Born early, and too small, he would have died if not for the quick spellwork of his father. As a child, he was undersized, and always seemed to be ill, picking up every virus going round. He spent a lot of time inside, preferring not to be with other children, catching their germs. Instead he stayed inside, practising spells and inventing his own. His parents worried about him – not only that he may one day catch a disease that his obviously feeble immune system would be unable to fight, but that he would be lonely without friends.

In truth, he wasn't lonely at all. He was fine on his own, and never particularly wanted any friends. Solitude was something he could live with.

2. He was six when he first spoke to a snake. He'd found it, right outside the house. His mother had insisted he sit in the garden for a while, and he'd sat on a rock, trying not to touch anything, or breathe too deeply. Didn't anyone know how many germs there were out here? Just how dirty it was out here?

So he sat on the rock, hoping he wouldn't get sick again, and looking at the clouds or the grass. He wasn't the type to appreciate either, and was just trying to guess how much time he'd spent out here, when he saw the movement. Curious, he'd leant down to see what it was, and found a snake cutting neatly through the grass. Amazed by the unfamiliar creature, he'd asked, without thinking, "What are you?"

The snake had looked at him, considered for a few moments, then began to speak to him. Later, when the snake went on its way and Salazar went inside, he told his father what had happened, who'd worriedly told him what it meant, and said he probably shouldn't tell many people.

Even then, parseltongue was considered a bad ability to possess; parselmouths were bad luck. But Salazar was always proud of the ability.

He was a gifted wizard, he decided at the age of twelve. And one day he'd do something great, something that would have his name remembered for eternity.

3. A dislike of muggle-borns wasn't something that was made a particularly big deal of. There were few of them – or rather, few of them that were given wands and taught magic – and as they were a minority, they were unpopular. Many wizards disliked the muggle-borns, but most did so quietly. Salazar's father was one of them; to the outside word he had no opinion on muggle-borns, but in his own home his casual disdain for them was vocal. So Salazar's contempt for them was present for as long as he could remember, and didn't seem like a bad thing. He wasn't overly prejudiced against them, really; as he grew older he met some, spoke to some, and was polite enough. But he always considered them undeserving of magic, and felt that all muggles who showed signs of magic should be ignored.

4. He met Godric while the other was travelling. Salazar hadn't understood why anyone would want to go around the land – in his opinion, it wasn't interesting, so why travel to see more of it? - and so they'd ended up talking. Godric stayed around for a while; they grew to be friends and stayed in touch after Godric left. When Godric wrote to tell him about a wizard school he and a couple of friends were going to create, he was interested, but didn't really think he'd bother getting involved; it didn't seem like something that would work. In times where magic was hunted, where the magical were persecuted, why would any parent send their child away, to live with strangers? Surely only few would do so, and it wasn't worth the effort for just a few, in his opinion. Still, out of respect for his friend, and curiosity, he agreed to meet with Godric and the others.

It was Rowena's enthusiasm that won him over. The way her eyes shone, the bright, hopeful smile on her face as she presented him with her ideas. He knew, just looking at her, that she would make it work, that somehow, she would draw students to her school. And when she asked him, rather tentatively, if he'd considered joining them, he found himself saying "Yes" before he'd thought it through.

Her ideas mostly seemed a little over-imaginative, but none of them could refuse her. This was, after all, her idea, her creation. And so they went along with her elaborate plans, and worked out the details.

He admired her spirit. He respected her mind. And by the time Hogwarts opened its doors for the first time, he was half-way in love with her.

5. He'd never thought he'd like teaching. He had little patience for other people, after all, disliked company. But this was different to pointless conversations and annoying presence. This was...He loved watching understanding come into a student's eyes. He loved seeing pride and amazement on their faces when they finally mastered something. And he loved knowing that he was instrumental to it. He decided, after just a few months, that this was where he belonged, where he was going to stay, until the day he died. This was his purpose.

He couldn't ever pinpoint just when the doubts started. Maybe when more muggle-born children started to attend, and he was constantly interrupted by questions, by the muggles who knew nothing of their world. Maybe when news of more witch-hunting reached them, and he worried that one of the muggles would give away their secret. All he knew was that he started to resent them, started to wish they weren't here. And made sure none were accepted into his house. But he grew much, much worse when he learned Rowena's secret.

6. He'd accepted the original story. That Rowena had met a wizard during the summer. That they'd planned to marry. That had hurt him – he was still in love with her, though had never acted upon it, not wanting to complicate things. But when Helga told them that the wizard had died in an accident, and that Rowena was pregnant with his child, Salazar knew how much she must be hurting, and despaired at what to do for her. Should he talk to her about it, or would she want to forget about it? Did she want comfort and fuss, or for everything to go on as normal? Was she content to raise the child on her own, or did she want a father for it? Would she, if he were to offer...

He didn't know what to do; in the end he did nothing.

But when Helena was six, he overheard her asking Rowena why she cried at night. Rowena had avoided the question, and he'd assumed the tears were for the dead wizard. Until, much later, he saw Helga slip into an empty classroom. She did it so suspiciously that he followed, listened curiously at the door. And heard Rowena asking whether or not she should tell Helena the truth. The statement caught his attention, and though he knew he shouldn't, he stayed, listened.

"I can't tell her that her father was a muggle." Rowena hissed. Salazar had jolted, the shock ripping through him. "She's never asked about him – what would it do to her if she were to find out he'd attempted to have me burned?"

The rage came then. At Rowena and Helga for lying, at the muggle for his betrayal.

And after learning that Rowena had almost been hunted – hunted, like an animal – because of a muggle, he couldn't help but hate them all.

7. He was burning with anger. It was only a few months after he'd found out Rowena's secret, and the anger was still there. So to be told by another student that a third year, in _his_ house, wasn't even a real wizard...it gave him the outlet he'd needed, a focus for the anger. And he was barely aware of waking the boy, of dragging him out – while other students screamed in fear, or asked nervously what he was doing – of pulling the boy up the stairs, with some notion of throwing him out of the castle, or into the lake. He scarcely noticed Godric gripping his arm, telling him to let go, asking what he was doing. Godric, who'd been cold to him lately, who disagreed loudly with his opinions. Godric, who would love to humiliate him this way...

"You!" He screamed. "You did this – you tricked me, used your hat to put this boy here! My house, Godric, mine! You had no right to mess with it!" He'd thrown the boy to the ground at that point. "Was it spite, or principle, Godric?" He cried.

"You're mad." Godric had said, with a calm that infuriated him. "I've not tricked you, nor has my hat. The boy has the qualities -"

"He doesn't have the blood!" Salazar had yelled. Then he'd lowered his voice, met Godric's eyes. "I have my secrets, Godric. This castle holds my secrets. And one day, the true heir will open the chamber, unleash the secret, and rid the school of all but the true."

And then he'd turned, walked from the castle.

8. He went home. To what had been his home before Hogwarts. He regretted, a little, leaving the castle and the work he'd loved. And regretted, more, his words to Rowena. He'd been cruel, he thought. Malicious, because he'd still been angry at her, for loving a muggle when she'd ever loved him. But that was over now, he vowed. He would forget her, forget Hogwarts. Move on. Create a new life, he decided.

But he dreamed of Hogwarts, and the monster he'd left there. It had been created in the forest, in a moment of madness. Or curiosity. He'd wanted to see if he could really hatch a Basilisk. And when he had, he'd panicked a little. The others would be furious, he knew, and would not permit such a dangerous creature anywhere near Hogwarts. So he created the chamber, under the school. Stored his creature in it, kept it controlled. And, during the anger at the unworthy, he'd slip into the chamber, whisper to the beast.

_You wait here, forevermore._ He'd told it, just after learning of Helena's parentage. _Wait, and one day you'll put right this place. You'll kill the unworthy. You'll obey me._ And, as an afterthought, he'd laughed, _Or you'll obey my heir; you'll obey the worthy._

9. He hadn't been serious, not really. He'd simply been mad. He'd intended to slay the snake at some point – his words to the Basilisk had been in anger. If he'd have thought, even for a second, that the snake would take his words to heart, would wait and remember, he'd have killed it before he left – Salazar was the kind of person to eliminate a problem, rather than try to fix it. It wouldn't have occurred to him to simply tell the snake he hadn't meant it. But, despite dreaming, for months, of his creature moving around Hogwarts, attacking, while a voice that wasn't his urged it, he didn't return to the castle, to his monster. He thought, after all, that they were just dreams, created by his longing to return to the castle.

And he hadn't known that Godric had remembered his words; hadn't known Godric had recorded them. Hadn't known his last, bitter warning would become a legend; or that one day a boy would seek out his creature.

10. He had never intended to have children. Never, in truth, wanted them. His daughter baffled him, really. She was so energetic, so curious. He didn't really know what he was supposed to do, didn't know how he was supposed to answer her many questions.

But he made sure she knew all about Hogwarts, about him, about his reasons for leaving. He was careful that she knew his importance.

She was only young when he died, but old enough to remember the things he'd told her, and to make sure her own children, and theirs, knew the stories. So, as well as his slight insanity, his life story was passed through the generations.


	85. Pomona Sprout

85. Professor Sprout

1. She always loved plants. Even as a small child, she spent as much time as possible in the tiny garden at home, digging in the dirt, memorizing the shape, colours, and names of all the flowers. Her mother despaired over the dirt that always found its way onto her clothes, and the way that she'd often dig up flowers to "look at them properly." And although she never admitted, Pomona later was sure that her mother was disappointed in her. Her mother was a very feminine woman, and seemed slightly dissatisfied that she ended up with a daughter more at home in dirty clothes and playing in muck that one happy in dresses and playing with dolls. For a while in her early teenage years this bothered her; later, she learned to accept that she and her mother were never going to be alike, and she learned to stop caring about it.

2. It wasn't until she reached Hogwarts that she realised she had a skill with plants. Instinctively, she knew how to handle some plants; and she eagerly learned to take care of others. Though the castle was impressive, she spent very little of her free time in there – the greenhouses, the gardens, were her favourite part of the grounds, and where she spent her time. She always got full marks in Herbology work and homework, often doing extra research into it, for fun. It meant that her other subjects received less attention – and to this day she is abysmal at Potions – but she didn't care. Even when teachers pulled her aside to tell her she could be doing better, even when she got detentions because she'd forgotten homework, she didn't attempt to change her habits.

Herbology was her first love; in her fifth year she read the leaflets concerning careers in Herbology, and confessed to her head of house that what she wanted to do, more than anything, was teach the subject; that way she could not only work with plants, but pass on the knowledge.

3. She did, once, have a near miss with a plant. A large poisonous one with a Latin name. It had snuck out a long, arm-like vine and stung her before she'd even noticed it in the room. She been uncounscious in seconds; if she'd been alone, she would have been dead within the hour. Instead, her friend managed to get help, get her to the hospital wing, and her life was saved. Her parents were outraged at the school for keeping such dangerous plants; her Herbology professor was furious at her for going into a greenhouse all but the seventh years were banned from, and the headmaster was frantic.

She knew it was stupid, but she couldn't help it – coming so close to death had given her a thrill that nothing else could. And instead of developing a fear of flora, the possibility of danger made her love them more.

4. She wasn't really ashamed to be a Hufflepuff. Well, maybe at first, when she sat at the table, the thought of writing home to her Gryffindor father and her Ravenclaw mother and telling them she was Hufflepuff worried her a little. But that was just because of all the times they'd talked about which house she'd end up in, certain it would be one of theirs. And maybe when she heard people saying things about her house, she'd just lower her head and walk away, rather than standing up for the house. But, generally, she was happy enough there. And if not announcing it, not standing up for her house, meant she lacked integrity, she could handle that.

And, much, much later, when the Professor who'd been head of her house retired, she applied for the position with little hesitation.

5. Still, she resented that her house got so little glory. So little recognition. And while she made sure to get to know as many of her students as possible, and she took pride in them all, she wished for a little more – wished for the other teachers to see just how great her house was. So when Cedric's name came out of the cup – she was so proud she thought she might burst. Cedric was a remarkable student, and she knew that he could win this, that he could show everyone just how talented the Hufflepuffs could be. That they were no less than anyone else, that they...

She was a teacher, and she knew that she ought to remain objective. But when Harry Potter's name came out of the Goblet of Fire, she couldn't stop the spurt of anger. How dare he take this away from them? And even though she did believe Dumbledore assurances that Harry didn't put his own name in – she trusted Dumbledore, and took his word seriously – she couldn't help but feel a little annoyed with Harry. Only when she saw him face the first task did that fade – she was horrified that any of them had to face such a thing, and later joined several teachers in proposing the whole thing be called off.

6. She controlled herself. She felt like sobbing, but forced herself to stay in control. She sat with Cedric's parents, speaking about him, or sitting in silence. She knew him best out of the teachers, Dumbledore had said, and he'd requested she sit with his parents, while he dealt with Harry.

She hated him for it. He was the headmaster, and to her mind that meant he ought to be here. She could only shake her head when Cedric's parents asked why, how, their son was dead. She had no idea, couldn't give them the answers they wanted, needed, and she hated Dumbledore for putting her through it.

She never really forgave him for it. She forgot about it – never one to hold a grudge – but when those horrible few hours came back to her, she hated Dumbledore for it.

She wished the night had blurred, faded, so that she wouldn't even really remember it; instead, it is still clear, the image of Cedric's dead body, of his broken parents and devastated classmates is burned onto her mind. The sound of sobs and screams are alongside it, as clear as if they were fresh.

6. She couldn't stop shaking. She hadn't been involved in the first war, being sheltered by her family, choosing to stay out of it, as many did. But she'd known what was going on – she'd heard about the deaths, the disappearances. She'd felt the fear, and the relief when You-Know-Who had vanished. But now, she couldn't stop shaking. Dumbledore had called them all to his office – the only teacher missing was Snape, though no one commented on it. He explained, quietly, calmly, that Voldemort was back. That Harry had both witnessed and been used in the revival.

That the ministry was refusing to believe, and the world was in danger.

She sat in silence, listened, then left the office when they were dismissed. She went to her room, put on her pyjamas, crawled into bed, all in calm silence. And then she became to shake, violently. At some point during the night she cried, overwhelmed. In the last few hours she'd lost a student and learned that the most evil wizard of all time was back. And she needed the time to breakdown a little. And she didn't sleep for a second.

7. The next morning, early, she went to Dumbledore. He, too, looked like he hadn't slept. She told him, quietly, calmly, the she wished to join the Order of the Phoenix. Its existence had never been confirmed, of course, but she'd heard of it, knew it was true, and knew it would be re-established within hours – if it hadn't been already. If not for Cedric, she probably would have tried her best to stay out of it, again, but she was determined to fight, for Cedric. Dumbledore looked at her seriously, considering, and shook his head.

He explained, kindly, that he was willing to let her help wherever necessary, and he hoped she would remain at Hogwarts, help protect it. But that he couldn't let her join the Order – because her husband was a muggle. If it were to reach the Death Eaters that she was a member, he told her, they would go after her husband – and he, Dumbledore, would not put her spouse at risk.

Yes, she was disappointed that she couldn't take a more active role in it. But she knew Dumbledore was right, and greatly respected him for it.

The night that he died, that was the moment she remembered. When he'd refused her request in order to protect a man he'd met only once. When he'd told her to go home for a few days, spend some time with her husband, and not to return until she was ready.

She didn't grieve for a great wizard, nor panic at the loss of their greatest hope in the war. She mourned the man.

8. Sending her husband away was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. She forced him to leave the country, refused to let him tell her where he'd go, and they had no contact. She was terrified for him, and determined that, even if she were to die, he would live. He wanted her to go with him; though she was tempted, extremely temped, she refused to leave Hogwarts, leave the students. And so she enlisted several muggle-born friends, who were also hiding, to take him with them, to where he could safely travel to another place.

It was difficult, though. She would lay awake at night, wondering if he was safe. Her mind would wonder during lessons, where she'd speculate as to where he was. She'd read every word of both the _Daily Prophet_ and _The Quibbler_, and later she listened to _Potterwatch_ every time it was on, searching for any indication that her husband had been found, killed. She knew he wasn't a major target, of course, knew it unlikely the Death Eaters would bother with him. But she worried, every single day.

9. Bizzarly, she wasn't scared by the Death Eaters, or even Voldemort, being at Hogwarts. She just had a strong feeling that it was going to be OK – that they were safe in the castle. And so she could fight her best, without worrying. If she were to be killed, she was certain that it would simply be her time to go. She spent much of her time outside, and refused to let herself think about it when she killed a Death Eater. It was the first time she'd killed, and she disliked the feeling greatly – but forced herself to move past it, to do what she had to.

And then, during their reprieve, she walked into the great hall – and saw the bodies. So many bodies, people she knew. People she'd spoken to. _Dead._ And suddenly all she could think that she'd been wrong – nothing was OK, no one was safe. And these people – these _children_ couldn't have died because it was their time.

Again, she forced herself to take control of her emotions, to do what had to be done. But when Voldemort announced that Harry Potter was dead, she was still unafraid – she was angry, and the anger gave her focus and strength.

10. From her very first lesson with Neville she'd seen something of herself in him. His skill and love for Herbology. And so, when the school was rebuilt, the ministry finally straightened out, and she felt that she didn't want to teach any more – she wished to retire, to spend her time with the husband she'd been reunited with – she wanted him to be her replacement. She went to McGonagall, offered to train Neville herself so that he could take over. It took some persuading for him to agree, and it took two years for him to be confident enough in himself for her to retire properly – the first year he observed her from the most part, pitching in increasingly, for the second year he insisted she be there while he taught, to correct him if and when he did something wrong.

And then she retired, knowing that the subject she loved, the school she adored, and the greenhouses she cherished were safe with him.


	86. Arabella Figg

OK, I really have to appologise for how bad this chapter is. I started it days ago, struggled, did more a couple days later, struggled again and finished it today. Kinda struggling. And it shows. I had no idea how old she was supposed to be, and the vague time-line may be wrong. I had no idea how hard Mrs Figg would be to write. So, yes, its terrible, and I'm sorry. Next update will probably be a while - writer's block seems to be my new best friend.

Thanks again for all the reviews, they amaze me.

86. Arabella

1. Squibs are pitied, looked down on by those with magic, but generally accepted. Just one of those things, you might say. Magical children may be cruel towards them, adults may often be prejudiced against them. But children born without magic are not, usually, treated badly by their parents. They are no longer hidden away like a shameful secret. But in her day, they were. In her day, many of them were abandoned. Parents would leave children in muggle orphanages, if they were lucky, and would tell people the child had died. If they were unlucky, they were simply left on the streets, to either die or learn to fend for themselves.

If Arabella lets herself think about her early childhood, she'll remember a mother's hug, a father's laughter. Sharp words, also. But parents. She remembers no names, no faces, though she is aware that if she tried she probably could. But she doesn't want to think about them, her parents, because she was one of the lost children.

She doesn't remember if anyone explained anything to her. If anyone apologised. All she knew was that one day she was safe, she was happy. The next, she was alone. She'd shown no signs of magic, and, ashamed, her parents had abandoned her, far away from home, in an unfamiliar place.

2. She would have died. They hadn't left her at an orphanage, at a safe place, but alone on the streets. She would have starved, or died because of the weather. It had been sheer luck that she was found by a wizard.

Dumbledore had already been respected at that point. He had found her, just feet away from the spot he'd been planning to apparate from. It was dark by then, and he'd asked her if she was alright. She'd burst into tears, because by then she'd figured out that her parents had left her on purpose, that she wasn't ever going home. And she'd told him that. He'd asked her a few questions about magic, and understood what had happened, and why. And he'd changed her life. He'd taken her to Hogwarts, first, and fed her, gave her a bed to sleep in. And then he'd introduced her to a couple – friends of his, he said. They were unable to have children, she later learned, and were desperate for them.

3. They took her. They didn't care that she was a squib, or that she didn't speak at all for the first two months. They didn't care that she was suddenly unable to remember her name, or her family, or anything that had happened. They gave her a home, a name, and love.

She never tried to track down her first parents – which is how she thinks of them, on the rare times when she thinks of them, because they are not her _real_ parents – and she never wanted to. She's long since accepted that their love died because of her lack of magic, and doesn't hate them for their abandonment; she believes she ended up with the best parents, and that the original ones did her a favour.

4. She always remained grateful to Dumbledore, and he stayed in contact with her, through the remainder of her childhood, her adolescence, and her adulthood. He let her join the Order of the Phoenix, though they both knew there was little she could do. And she moved to Privet Drive on his orders without a second thought. She put up with the Dursleys in order to be a part of Harry Potter's life, because Dumbledore asked her to. He saved her life, and there is little she would not do for him.

But it wasn't until his death that she realised how much he actually meant to her. It was, though not exactly the same as her father's death had been, almost as painful. He had, she realised at the funeral, given her parents and taken on the role of a beloved Uncle.

Which was why the bad things that were said about him hurt and angered her so much.

5. The thing that bothered her most about the war – both parts of it – was the way so many people ignored it. If she, as someone who couldn't even make a wand produce sparks, was involved, was trying to save a world she was outcasted from, then why couldn't others? As much as she despised Voldemort and his followers, she had to respect the Death Eaters a little bit – because at least they fought for what they believed in. She hated the feeling of being useless, and hated those who did nothing. They had the one thing she'd give almost anything for – magic. If she just had a little bit of their power, she'd be out there, fighting, do anything she could.

6. Her cats were important to her for a reason. After the first month with her parents, while she was still not speaking at all, they got her a kitten. They let the kitten sleep in her room with her, and even though she wasn't supposed to have it in the bed with her while she slept, she always did. It was a huge comfort to her, and helped her adjust. She was convinced she wouldn't have managed it without the kitten, and cats became her favourite animal.

She surrounded herself with her beloved cats to try and bring back some of that comfort. On her sixtieth birthday, she realised she was alone. Her husband, a muggle who she'd loved very much but, towards the end, seldom got along with, had died some seven years before. She had few friends, no real hobbies, and she hated it.

The cats helped.

7. She didn't hear about that last battle at Hogwarts for three days. She didn't bother with the Prophet, what with it all being lies, and no one had got in touch with her. She'd been in contact with some of the Order, of course. And she understood that, what with all the deaths, and the damage to the school, and the celebrating, letting her know it was over wasn't priority. But to be told, three days later, that the war was over, that Voldemort was dead...it bothered her. For three days, while the wizarding world mourned, celebrated, and tried to rebuild their lives, she was waiting, wondering, fearing.

Even after all those years, that was the moment that she really accepted that she didn't fit into the wizarding world.

8. Harry Potter never contacted her again. She hadn't expected him to, though she'd rather hoped he would. But, because of how much Dumbledore had meant to her, and how much Harry had meant to Dumbledore, she kept track of him. She read all the newspaper articles on him, and used her contacts in the wizarding world to access magazine articles on him, and to get frequent updates. She knew when his wife got pregnant, each time. She read about each of his children, and followed his career.

She may have done so even without her love for Albus. She had, after all, babysat the child countless times. She'd watched the teenager from afar. And while they may never have been close, she was entitled to take an interest in him.

9. She moved away from Privet Drive, a year after the war. There had been nothing keeping her there, after all. And she had never really liked it there, nor the people around it. She moved to a small area, which was largely populated by wizards. It was uncomfortable, of course, to be around wizards; where she didn't fit, and muggles; where she also didn't fit. But she preferred it there.

Privet Drive had never been home.

10. Her death came many years after the war. She'd wondered if being a squib would lower her life expectancy – wizards and witches, after all, lived longer than muggles, always had done. And she wasn't a witch. So, as she neared the century mark, she'd waited, wondering, expecting her death at any moment. She wasn't afraid; in truth, by that point, she rather thought that there was nothing else for her to do here, no reason for her to live anymore. Though she was not particularly unhappy with her life, she felt that it had run its course; that she was now just drifting.

At one-hundred and four years old, and a handful on months, she died peacefully at home.


	87. Padma Patil

OK, two things. One, I'm going on holiday on Saturday, so they'll be no updates for at least a week. Two, for anyone who used to read it, I'm now continuing The Sorting. Kind of. I've updated it, and I'm pretty sure I'll write more on it.

Right, back to this story. Appologies for mistakes, but I haven't got the time to proof-read. (I know I don't usually make such a great job of proof-reading, but I do try.)

87. Padma

1. She was older than Parvati, something which she liked to remind her off often when they were eight. She was the oldest, she was in charge, she was the big sister. She grew out of that by their ninth birthday though, because four minutes hardly counted, did it? They were the same age, they had the same face – they were each other. One and the same, their mother once said. And while Padma supposed some people would hate that, would want to be their own person, she loved it. Most of the time.

It was only every once in a while that she resented it. When they got presents from relatives "to share" or when they were referred to as "the twins". It was a just a little annoying to be disallowed her own identity, to be treated as though she wasn't a person in her own right, but defined by the fact she was a twin. So while she loved her sister, loved being so close to her, there were times, every now and then, than she wished for something that would make them different, something that would stop people thinking of them as the same person.

2. She was so nervous about starting Hogwarts. Excited, but so nervous that on the morning they left she thought she might vomit. It was Parvati who gripped her arm tightly, smiled shakily and said, "We'll be OK – we've got each other." And Padma relaxed, because _of course_ they'd get each other through whatever Hogwarts threw at them. Hadn't they always worked together? Like the time they broke their mother's favourite ornament, and they'd come up with an elaborate plan to fix it before she noticed. (It hadn't worked very well, though, because they'd used too much glue and stuck it together a little lopsided, so it was very obvious. But they'd still worked together for it.) They would always be there for each other, Padma told herself as she settled back into her seat on the train. Nothing could ever break them apart.

She was nervous about the sorting, too, until, Parvati gripped her hand. Once again reminding her that she was there, and they'd be OK together. So when Padma's name was called, and she stepped forward, the nerves had gone. She was so lucky – she wasn't alone in this. Her sorting took seconds, and the hat told her – actually told her – that there was no doubt where she belonged, that there was only one house she'd truly fit in. So she happily made her way over to the Ravenclaw table, thinking idly that wasn't it efficient she and Parvati were born within minutes of each other, and would be sorted within minutes of each other...

It never entered her head that Parvati would end up anywhere else. So when, after just a few brief seconds, the hat yelled out a word, she didn't even hear what it said. It was only when she realised Parvati had frozen that she wondered what had happened. And then, when Parvati stood up and handed the hat back, her hands shaking, the word that had been yelled a moment ago came back to her – _Gryffindor._ Her mouth dropped open in horror, and she felt her heart beat faster as she watched Parvati find a seat at the Gryffindor table. Her sister avoided her gaze until she was sat, then looked up and met her eyes, for just a moment before looking away. Padma looked down at her own plate, and felt terrified.

She was alone.

3. She cried that night, silently into her pillow. And then she forced herself to believe nothing had changed. Everything was the same, really. They were just – for the first time ever – sleeping in different rooms. And yes, they wouldn't have classes together all the time, but they were still sisters, still twins...

And for a week or two, they managed to pretend things were OK. Seeing each other in the lessons they shared, seeing each other at breaks, and after lessons. But things seemed to be increasingly awkward, and Padma felt herself growing more and more miserable. And then, one breakfast, she glanced towards the Gryffindor table, searching out her sister, and saw Parvati laughing with another first year girl. Padma watched, as Parvati and the other girl chatted brightly, and felt like crying again. Parvati had found a friend. And she, Padma, was _still _alone.

It got worse. Over the next few days, she saw Parvati talking to the girl at every meal, and the next time they had a lesson together, Parvati brightly introduced them. "Padma, this is Lavender." She said, smiling, and then turned to the other girl. "This is my twin sister, Padma."

Padma tried to like her, tried to be nice. But it was so difficult – this girl, this _Lavender_ was stealing her twin!

It wasn't until the Christmas holidays that she forgave her sister for making a close friend. They'd spent the term talking to each other less and less, and they'd even stopped sitting together in their shared lessons, and meeting up at breaks. It had felt like losing her sister, and it all became so much more painful back in the room they'd shared. Before she knew it, she was crying, and so was Parvati. They didn't speak – didn't need to – but hug and cried, then started to laugh. They talked, about everything and anything, and then vowed to make an effort with each other, to make sure they had as much contact as they could manage.

4. The Yule Ball was a humiliating experience. She felt so awkward, so self-conscious, walking through the halls, wondering if anyone would actually ask her to the ball. Wondering if boys were looking at her, considering her. And, as Christmas drew nearer, and she hadn't even been _asked_ she grew more and more dejected. Her friends assured her that she was pretty, and many guys daren't ask her. But most of them had dates, so it didn't help much.

And then, just when was entering a kind of desperate horror, Parvati had ran up behind her. "Hey – I've been looking for you everywhere." She'd said breathlessly. "I've got you a date. To the ball. If you want him. I mean, you could do better, but – well – he seems like a nice enough guy, I guess – but if you'd rather not -"

Eventually, Padma got a name out of her sister. She'd never spoken to Ron Weasley, hadn't paid much attention to him. But found herself agreeing anyway.

And wasn't that a mistake. Not only did he turn up in the most disgusting robes she'd ever seen (Parvati later told her that Ron's family was kinda poor, and that he probably couldn't afford nice robes, which made Padma ashamed of her dirty looks directed as his robes, and made her feel sorry for him.) but he spent all night ignoring her, refusing to even speak to her never mind dance, and sending dark looks at Hermione Granger, who looked to be having a much better time that she was.

She got over it eventually, but that night was a big disappointment to her, and a big dent to her ego.

5. She'd expected their parents to remove them from the school, the second she heard Dumbledore was dead. And she was relieved that they did. She liked it at Hogwarts, had insisted that she and Parvati stay there. But Dumbledore was dead, Death Eaters had broken into the castle, and she was terrified. All she wanted was to go home, to her parents. So she and Parvati didn't argue, didn't even discuss it – when their heads of houses arrived, with a parent – their father came to Padma, their mother went to Parvati – they simply packed their things. Padma didn't speak, finding herself suddenly close to tears. Hogwarts had, in a similar way as her sister, become tainted for her. Her father helped her pack her things, but when she'd finished, she turned to face him, and found herself bursting suddenly into tears. For several minutes she hugged him.

When she got home, she ran straight to her room. She didn't bother to unpack, but crawled into her bed, burrowing under the covers and tightly clutching her childhood teddy bear. The blue bear – twin of Parvati's green one – was well-worn, and had seen her through many nights, fears and illnesses. She'd taken it with her for her first two years of Hogwarts, then started leaving it at home, convinced she was too old for teddies. But she spent an hour curled up in the bed, clutching the bear, and wishing she could be a child again – a little girl without a care in the world. Because this, the whole horrible war, made her feel far too grown-up, and far too worried.

6. They were going to stay at home. She and Parvati never intended to leave their parents, go back to Hogwarts, in such dangerous times. Then Voldemort had taken over the ministry – and everyone knew it, though many pretended not to – and the law was passed making Hogwarts compulsory. And they had no choice. So, on September the first, she and Parvati boarded the train – for the first time terrified, miserable, and angry – clutching each other's hands for support.

And her bear (rather unimaginatively named Blue) was tucked neatly into her trunk. While Padma never told anyone – though she wouldn't have denied it – Blue found its way into her bed more often than not that year. The terror was very real, very strong, and hardly eased by the Prefect's guarding the common room, by Flitwick checking on them every night.

Hogwarts had been contaminated, and nothing could change that.

7. She felt cold all over. Freezing, and in any moment she'd start to shake, she was sure. Because _he_ was coming here. He and his followers were going to further dirty the castle she used to love. They were going to kill, she was sure. Kill and maim and destroy, because that's what they did. And she was terrified. And...And when McGonagall said that anyone above age could stay and fight, and everyone else would leave, she wanted to run. To grab her sister and run home. To leave the castle and its dangers, to go home. She didn't want to stay and face her nightmares.

But she half-turned, looked at Parvati, and knew that her sister would not leave. That Gryffindor bravery, or moral standards, or something, would keep Parvati here, fighting. And Padma – though the urge to run still remained, knew that she wouldn't flee, either – she wouldn't leave her sister here to fight, to die. She couldn't. And so she slipped a hand into her pocket and gripped her wand.

(She admitted this only once, to Parvati, four years after the war. The two of them had gotten exceptionally drunk, and Padma had found herself confessing in a whisper. Parvati had, rather than judging, condemning, growing angry, nodded and hugged her. And Padma knew, in the way only sisters can, that Parvati had – for a moment, just a moment – considered fleeing, too.)

8. Most of that night has faded from her mind, though she knows most people remember it clearly. For her, the hours have blurred, turned into just a vague horror, fear, and death. She remembers little of the actual fighting, but can recall the desperate search for her sister easier. And the feeling of euphoria at finding Parvati, her clothes torn, her face dirty, pale, and looking exhausted, but _alive._

She remembers them both sobbing as they hugged, remembers walking into the hall and seeing the bodies, and remembers Parvati's sharp intake of breath as she broke away and ran. To, Padma realised, Lavender...they'd never really got on – though Padma no longer hated her – but she still felt immense relief when Lavender's eyes flipped open.

She remembers a vague hopelessness when it was announced Harry was dead. She hadn't really known him, but like most others had considered him the answer to the war.

And then, Voldemort was dead on the floor, and she was screaming in bliss, hugging Parvati, her friends, anyone who was near. Strangers, teachers, anyone. And even Harry himself.

But she lost friends that night; came close to losing her sister, her life. And so the event has blurred in her memory, but occasionally creeps into her dreams.

9. She watched, with amusement and sentiment, as her sister fell in love with Dean Thomas – who Padma liked very much, though obviously not in the same way Parvati did. By the time her first nephew was born, Padma regarded and loved Dean as a brother, and was extremely pleased for her sister. And jealous. She wanted the same thing – love, acceptance, and a family of her own. And yet, she hated the whole dating, being fixed up, or chatted up. Not only did she consider it all a rather awkward, humiliating experience, but she didn't want to waste her time on relationships that weren't going anywhere. And so she told her sister, her friends, that she was waiting for the guy she just clicked with, where nothing felt awkward and everything felt right.

And then, one rainy night, she found herself in Leaky Cauldron, alone. And Terry Boot – Terry, who'd always been nice and funny and sweet, but adorably shy – walked over, reminded her who he was. They talked for hours, catching up, reminiscing. Nothing was awkward, everything was right.

_Click._

10. She was a sounding board for Parvati when her eldest nephew, Francis, left for Hogwarts. The worries, the fears, the sleepless nights. And, in the first October, when Francis went a whole week without writing, Padma spent hours trying to calm Parvati down as her sister imagined the worst. She understood it, of course, but was sure that Hogwarts was now safe (even if, forever in her mind, it will be a dark, horrific place) and that the children were safe.

And then came her turn. Her eldest – her firstborn, her little girl – was going off to Hogwarts. Miles away. Where they couldn't even apparated to. Her little Arabella, who was so _small_, so innocent and fragile...

She sent another two daughters, and a son. Though Parvati had warned her it would never get easier, Padma found it much more difficult to let go of her youngest, her little boy, her (though she's no longer allowed to refer to him this way aloud) _baby_. And though none of her children (or Parvati's, for that matter) were ever seriously injured, Padma hated every second they were away from her.


	88. Michael Corner

So sorry it's taken me so long, I really couldn't even start anything until a couple of days ago. But it's here now. I'm not sure if anyone even wanted to read about Michael Corner, but a few of his little things just came into my head, and I could finally write again.

Oh, and just because I have to brag, I got my exam result a few weeks ago. I got an A in Psychology, and since I worked really hard for that A, I feel entitled to mention it.

Anyway, on with the story.

88. Michael

1. When he was really little, he liked hearing about Harry Potter, and how he beat the horrible Voldemort. His father, always one for dramatics, would tell him the story as if Voldemort was a super-villain and Harry Potter as a super-hero. So even though Michael knew that Harry had been just a baby at the time, he imagined him as someone with super power, great magic, or even, possibly, some kind of mutant.

But – possibly because of the way his father told the story, possibly because the idea of a baby beating a powerful evil wizard was so ludicrous – he didn't think any of it was real. He assumed it was just a story, something his father had made up to tell him at bedtime.

And he was seven before he learned the truth, after mentioning it to his mother, who had, with some confusion, told him that Harry Potter wasn't a super hero, but a real little boy, round about his own age.

He hoped – and still does, because he obviously can't _ask _them – that both his parents have forgotten this, and he never told anyone else, not even Terry or Antony. Because, in a world where everyone knew the story, it's a little humiliating that he was so mistaken.

(But later, much, much later, he couldn't help but wish that Harry was a super hero after all.)

2. He always had a fascination with the colour red, from being a small boy. It was his favourite colour – at five, he refused to eat anything unless it was on his special red plate, or in his special red bowl, would drink only from a red cup, and insisted on a red fork, knife and spoon, much to his parents amusement and irritation. Everything was red, from his favourite t-shirt to his bedroom.

And so it made sense to him, when his father told him all about Hogwarts, its house and their colours, that he'd be a Gryffindor. Not because of their qualities, or anything like that, but simply because Gryffindor colours were red and gold. And when you're six years old, such things as your favourite colour influence a great deal. The red made the house his.

His obsession may have eased somewhat as he got a little older, but the notion of being a Gryffindor stayed with him – and because he'd decided it so long ago, believed it for so long, the idea of not being a Gryffindor never occurred to him.

But suddenly, the hat was telling him he was Ravenclaw, and sending him towards the blue. _Blue_. Which was not red.

And he was still young enough that it mattered – from that day on, even after he forgot about it all, when there were far more important things, he hated the colour blue.

3. He enjoyed potions, almost from his first lesson. So long as he ignored Snape, that is, who always managed to creep him out just by being in the room. But the teacher rarely criticised him, and even, once or twice, gave him what could be classed as a compliment, which Michael took to mean he wasn't too bad at it. He was never one who understood exactly what made what happen with a potion, but he was very skilled at putting them together.

Still, the "O" he got in his O.W.Ls was a complete surprise, though of course a good one. He had, rather optimistically, applied to continue potions, though doubting he'd get the "Outstanding" grade required. So getting the top grade, knowing he was one of the few who'd make it to N.E.W.T level was very gratifying.

And he was just a little disappointed when he found out that the new teacher let "E" grades through, too. Because he'd worked hard for his grade, and a part of him though that those who'd only managed "E" didn't deserve it as much as he did.

4. He'd noticed Ginny Weasley around, for a while, before he started making an effort to notice her, looking for her as he passed the Gryffindor table, or as he walked down a corridor. At the Yule Ball, he watched her dance awkwardly with Neville, then watched her as she sat, drinking and talking and laughing. It was Terry who hit him over the back of the head, told him to stop sending daggers at Longbottom and go ask her to dance.

He took the advice to save his pride (and because he really wanted to dance with her) and asked her out a few days later. And even if people told him that she'd had a thing for Potter for years, it didn't matter, because she was with him. Plus, when he asked her about it, she acted annoyed, even insulted. So obviously she was over that.

(Later, when Ginny and Harry got together, he thought that maybe he'd always known she still liked Potter. But that could simply have been his pride talking.)

5. He loved Quidditch from a young age, and was gutted to realise he had no natural talent. For the first three years at Hogwarts, he spent as much time as possible out on the pitch, practising in order to make himself better. He wanted to be on the team, and by his third year, after all the nights of rain, sweat and blood, he was sure that he'd be accepted onto the team. So he went to try-outs, yet again, played his best, and waited to be awarded his prize.

The rejection stung, more than it had the previous two times. He'd gotten so much better, put so much work in, been so sure...So to be told he still wasn't just enough dented his pride and his spirit. He gave up, then, slinking back to his dorm, brushing away Terry and Antony's questions. Never, he decided, would he drag himself out to the pitch, force himself to practice until his every muscle ached. Never again would he go back to his room, his hands bleeding from clutching the broom so tightly.

He'd poured his heart and soul into Quidditch for three years. And, at thirteen, the rejection was the worst thing that ever happened to him. He didn't, for the rest of the year, even go to watch the Quidditch games. He didn't care if Ravenclaw won or not, because he wasn't a part of it.

It was Antony who dragged him to the final, telling him they had to see if Slytherin finally lost or not. Michael didn't know anything about the points, about the chance Gryffindor had. And didn't care, either.

But he got caught up in it all. The atmosphere, the hope and fear, the cheers and jeers reminded him of how much he loved the sport.

So he couldn't play it. But he could still watch it, still love it.

(But the fact that his girlfriend was on her team, that she was good at the sport, that wounded his ego.)

6. The idea of being at war seemed pretty cool to him. After all, it was practically a secret, and only the D.A, and the elite Order of the Phoenix (which, when he Hermione Granger about it, was neither confirmed nor denied) knew about it. Even during his sixth year, it all still seemed cool – good versus evil, the ultimate battle. It was like his favourite comic books, and it was so easy to forget that real people were dying. It was, perhaps, a mistake that the adults around him made – by not talking about the war, by trying to keep it from them, they took some of the seriousness away. In an attempt to protect him – and his peers – they kept the fear away.

And then, suddenly, his mother was at the school, telling him that his dad's kid sister was _dead_. Auntie Sierra, who was only twenty-three, and the best aunt ever, who always gave him presents and never acted like he was some stupid kid. She was his favourite aunt – his favourite relative – and she'd been killed.

She happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, his mother told him gently.

And that moment, when he'd lost someone he loved, was when the war became real, and scary, and wrong.

7. He'd never seen Hogwarts this way. Everyone was so scared, so worried, and it was all just wrong. The D.A was his way of rebelling, of helping, of fighting. If all he could do to help was set first years free, then so be it – and he took the punishment, staggered off to the Room of Requirement and let the others fix up his injuries.

And, though a horrified Neville assured him that it wouldn't happen again, that they'd stop with the stunts, stop risking such punishments, Michael was willing to do it again, and would have, had the D.A not all agreed that it was time to stop. Because he took it as a personal insult that Hogwarts wasn't Hogwarts anymore, that the people he'd grown up with were terrified – or on the run – and, most of all, that his aunt was dead. If all he could do to avenge her was give Snape and the Carrows some trouble, then he'd damn well do it.

8. It all got crazy, that night, and afterwards he found that he could hardly remember it. Major events are clear – Voldemort's voice, watching Terry fly through the air and into a wall, the first Death Eater he stunned, and the first killing curse he barely managed to dodge, the rows of dead bodies, Harry being "dead", and Voldemort, really dead and sprawled out. But he knows there's more to it than that – the rest has blurred, and it's hard to keep it all straight, to keep it in the right order. He knows that he isn't the only one to experience it, and that some people only remember a little of it, but a part of him feels that something that big, that serious, that important, should be etched clearly in his mind for ever more.

Still, he'd like to forget stumbling, crawling, over debris as he tried desperately to get to Terry, his heart in his throat, so sure that he was dead. He'd like to forget the panic, the seconds that felt like a lifetime when he couldn't find a pulse. He'd like to forget the sob that clawed its way out of his throat, the few tears that spilled over his eyes, when he couldn't concentrate enough to see if Terry was breathing, couldn't find the pulse, and was so sure that his best friend was dead, right there in front of him. But he remembers, and he remembers Luna Lovegood – who he'd teased, laughed at, joked about – crouching beside him, taking Terry's wrist from him grasp, and telling him gently that she could feel the pulse.

"He's alive." She whispered, and said nothing when he burst into tears, and gripped her shoulder while he got himself under control. He remembers her helping him get Terry to the great hall, when Madam Promfrey was dealing with injuries.

He never teased her again, never laughed at her again, and never made a single joke about her.

9. Yes, he liked Cho. Yes, they were together. Sort of. Truth was, she was a year older than him, and he figured that once she'd left Hogwarts, they'd just sort of end. Then Dumbledore was dead, the world was a mess, and he didn't think about her at all – well, other than the vague worry that she, along with his other friends, wouldn't survive. But he didn't think worry about her more than anyone else, and didn't consider her his girlfriend. He thought nothing of it when, as they all gathered in the room of requirement, she sat by him. Or when, as they spread out to start fighting, she hugged him tightly. He hugged her back, knowing they were both scared, and knowing that they might never see each other alive again.

But after it was all over, and she hugged him, kissed him, it finally clicked that she thought they were still together. He couldn't put much thought into it, though, because Terry was hurt, and he felt a little banged up himself, and he was just so thrilled to be alive, for his friends to be alive. And so he figured they'd talk later, straighten things out, no problem.

But things were so hectic. He was making sure all his friends were still alive – and he had to deal with the shock and horror that a Ravenclaw girl in his year was dead – they hadn't particularly been friends, but she'd always been around, he'd talked to her and known her and grown up with her – and then he was getting his minor injuries fixed, and his parents were arriving, and he was dealing with his sobbing mother, and he just forgot all about her. He prepared to leave the castle, hugging his friends goodbye, promising to meet up sometime soon – none of them mentioned all the funerals they see each other at – and he hugged her like all the others.

She turned up at his house a few days later, and he had to sit her down and have the most awkward conversation he'd ever experienced. It was humiliating for both of them, and he felt like a jerk when she quickly left his house.

10. He wasn't really sure he was the marrying type. He just couldn't picture himself as a husband, as a father. But it was Antony's little sister that he eventually fell for. Four years younger than he, she'd always been shy, quite, and hardly noticeable. Then she was twenty-two, he was twenty-six, and she was still so...normal. His school friends were all just a little bit jaded, a little bit scarred by what they'd been through. Greta was young enough to not have been involved overmuch in the war, and when he was with her, he felt like he hadn't been through it either.

Years later, after his sons and daughter were born, he got drunk with Terry and Antony, and slurred that Greta had saved him, kept him sane and balanced. Neither of them remembered it the next day, but he did, and still does.


	89. Terry Boot

Look at the reviews. Just look at them all. Thank you, each and every one of you.

89. Terry

1. He was scared a lot as a child. Of monsters, ghosts, zombies, vampires, and anything else his older brother told him about. Arnold, who was nine years older than him, took great delight in telling Terry about all sorts of brain-eating, bloodsucking, murderous monsters. And though Terry would often say, very loudly, that he didn't believe, and wasn't scared, it was so much harder to be brave during the night, when it was dark and the house made weird noises.

Eventually, when he was six, he was laid awake, listening out for vampires, his quilt tucked tightly around his neck in hopes of preventing a bite. There was a storm starting outside, and, though Terry couldn't tell the time, he knew that when his little digital clock read _12:00 am_ it was midnight - which was, of course, the most scary time of night.

All at once, the clock flicked to midnight, thunder rolled outside, and something in the house creaked. Bursting into tears, Terry dived out of bed, and ran from the room, intending to hide in his parents' bed, where his mother could comfort him and his father could protect him. Just outside his door, however, he ran straight into Arnold, who was on his way back from the bathroom. Falling straight to the floor, Terry would have screamed, had he not been sure he'd just bounced off a vampire and been terrified into silence. He simply cried harder, even when he recognised his brother. Arnold crouched down, asking anxiously what was wrong, and was he hurt? Terry managed to choke out the word "vampire" which seemed to make sense to Arnold, who quickly picked him up and carried him back into his room, switching the light on as he did.

"I really scared you, didn't I?" He said awkwardly, tucking Terry back into his bed. When Terry nodded, he sighed. "I'm sorry. Look, Terry, none of its real, OK? Well, maybe some of it is, but, ah, well none of them are going to come here and get you, like I said they would." Terry made a squeak, but couldn't manage to speak. "Honest, mate. I was just trying to scare you...I guess I'm a jerk like that. But you don't have to be afraid, OK? Nothing going to hurt you." As brotherly moments go, it was awkward, rather one-sided and short, but effective, and one that made their mother, who was standing unseen by the doorway listening, smile sentimentally

"What if I get scared anyway?" Teddy whispered, as Arnold started to leave. Arnold hesitated, then shrugged.

"You'll just have to be brave and get through it, won't you?" He replied, before clicking out the light. The words stuck with Terry, and, years later, when he felt a fear he'd never imagined, came back to him.

2. He was scared on his first day at Hogwarts. This was it, going away to school, away from his family. His brother wouldn't even be there – not for the first time, Terry cursed the age-gap between him and Arnold, because, no matter how awful his brother often was to him, it would have been some kind of comfort, some kind of safety, to know that he was there. But instead, he was going off to a strange place, all alone.

He met Anthony on the train. A whole inch shorter than him, looking nervous and a little sick, he quietly asked permission to sit in the compartment with Terry, who readily agreed. Anthony sat, silent and looking at the floor, with a shyness that Terry rarely ever saw again. And because Terry was petrified of not having any friends at Hogwarts, he forced himself to combat his own introversion and start a conversation. It was slow, at first, with short, awkward sentences and many pauses in between, but eventually they relaxed a little around each other, and though Terry was the one keeping the conversation moving, Anthony was contributing a lot more by the time they reached the station. And Terry couldn't help but hope he'd found his first friend.

3. He'd never expected to be a Ravenclaw, assuming he wasn't smart enough. But the hat started murmuring about untapped potential, and how with the right teachers – and wasn't he lucky those teachers were right here? – he could use that potential. And the next thing Terry knew, the hat was yelling Ravenclaw and he was walking towards the table, stunned.

But when Anthony joined him a few minutes later, he relaxed. Because, he reasoned, even if he and Anthony didn't end up as close mates, at least he knew someone.

Over the next few weeks, he and Ant became friends, and got to know the castle a little more. Michael, though sharing their dorm, was quiet and usually alone. Assuming he was homesick, Terry started talking to him one potions lesson. And somehow, by Christmas, the three of them were best friends (not that they'd have said something as girly as that). And as the years passed they grew closer and closer, until Terry secretly thought that they were practically his brothers.

4. Sure, he knew all about Voldemort. And sure, he'd heard the stories, the rumours, about Harry Potter, saving the philosopher's stone from Voldemort at the end of their first year. But he hadn't thought that Voldemort would actually come back, bring back the war, and start all the murders and terrors again. So, at first when Dumbledore said it, his mind rejected it. And though he didn't speak of it, or particularly believe anything the Daily Prophet printed – or, in fact, bother reading the paper – he couldn't believe it, because the thought of a war, of being in a war, terrified him.

But once back at Hogwarts, hearing what Harry said, he couldn't help but think it was true. Because why would he stick to his story no matter what? Why would Dumbledore? And how else would Diggory have died?

So the thought of a war, being in a war, still terrified him, but Terry was a Ravenclaw, and smart enough to see the truth. If Voldemort wanted a war, he thought viscously one D.A meeting, after he'd stunned Anthony for the first time, then they'd give him one.

5. It was, though, a bit of an ego bruise to have Harry teaching them. Though he may not have know Harry that well – prior to the D.A, he didn't think they'd ever said one word to each other – he was very aware that Harry was his own age (actually, Terry was eight months older than him) in his own year, and a Gryffindor. To be taught by someone he shared classes with, someone who wasn't even a Ravenclaw and should, therefore, be less smart than himself, was rather un-dignified.

But there was a war, and some things, Terry decided, were more important than pride. (Even if he did, once or twice, take great insult in having Harry correct his spell work, and even if he did, just a few times, feel extremely smug when he'd mastered something before anyone outside his own house. But that was just his Ravenclaw pride coming through.)

6. Going back for his seventh year was something he had a choice in, unlike most others. The law now stated he had to attend, of course – his maternal grandmother was a muggle, but other than that he was all wizard blood – but his mother sat him down and told him, very seriously, very quietly, that if he wanted to – if he said so, right now, or anytime up until he was on the train – they would pack up what they needed and go, just leave.

He was stunned, and for several minutes just sat, staring at her, while she spoke in that same quiet, grave tone. They'd go at very night, if he wanted. Flee abroad, and stay there, safe, until everything was back to how it should be. Arnold was leaving, she reminded him. Arnold was preparing to take his pregnant wife out of the country, to ensure the safety of her and their unborn child. They could go with them.

He considered it. He wasn't ashamed of himself for it, and later admitted it to Anthony and Michael. He seriously considered just running, leaving his friends, leaving the danger, and going with his family to somewhere safe. Where he would have his mother and sister-in-law with him, where he wouldn't have to worry. And for a moment – or, in fact, several moments – he wanted to. Wanted to jump up, pack his things, and take his parents away with Arnold and Delilah.

But he couldn't. He was prepared to fight, to face it, and he couldn't leave his friends – his _brothers_ in all but name and blood. So he shook his head, told his mother quietly that he had to, _had to_ go back to Hogwarts, to stay and do what was right.

7. He tried to get his mother to leave though. As they said a final goodbye to Arnold and Delilah, as he wondered if he'd live to see his nephew or niece, he tried to talk his mother into going with them. His father, he knew, wouldn't, but he'd hoped his mother would. She refused, though, telling him with a sharpness to her tone that she wouldn't leave her youngest son alone in a war-torn country.

So he went back to Hogwarts, worrying about his parents, and about Arnold and Delilah, who could hardly manage any contact. Delilah had become the sister he'd never had, and with the baby and all, he couldn't help but worry. But when the people around him talked about not having a choice – those with enough "pure" blood were forced to return, those without it forced to run – he knew that he'd made the right choice, however much he prized the opportunity.

The truth of it was, he'd never have forgiven himself if he'd run away. And without a pregnant wife to put first, staying was the only option he could have made.

8. The idea of a battle at Hogwarts, with Voldemort present, was terrifying and exciting all at once. But at the same time it seemed surreal, and Terry didn't really get a chance it accept that it was happening before it was all underway. The adrenaline was sending him crazy, energy and fear and hope and nerves all flying around his body, and he couldn't stand still. Which was a good thing, really. The battle was underway, and he was actually fighting, and doing it well. Jinxing, stunning, cursing, all the while dodging the things sent his way. Proud of himself and excited, he didn't notice the death eater until it was too late; though Terry never found out what exactly happened, the next thing he knew he was flying through the air. The journey can't have been very long, yet Terry's thoughts weren't rushed, but clear and whole.

He knew he was going to die. Felt the fear, but more the misery and disappointment. He'd wanted to survive, and now he filled with regrets. He'd never see home again, never see his family. And he wanted, more than anything else, so desperately he could feel it crushing his chest, to go home one last time. To hug his mother, to say goodbye to his brother and ister-in-law one last time, to hold his nephew or niece, who was surely born by now, and to make sure his father knew he'd tried to be a man.

And then he hit the wall, the force of it making pain sing up every bone, and everything went black.

9. He has a memory of what came next, though he doesn't know if it's real, or created by his mind from what others told him. The memory consists of Michael's voice, desperate and high, muttering. Of shaking hands gripping his wrists, to be replace by gentle ones, and Luna Lovegood's voice saying softly that he was alive. (He thanked her, later, for her help at that time.)

The next thing he knew, he was coming round in the great hall. Though every inch of his body ached, though he couldn't think straight, though all he wanted, still, was to go home, he fought, that final time, with the rest of the survivors, and he witnessed Voldemort's death.

And he'll never forget standing there, looking down at the empty body of a monster, every part of him aching, with sheer relief burning his throat and heart. It was over.

Arnold and Delilah got back four days later, complete with Terry's niece, already five months old. They all cried a little on that reunion, and Terry has made sure to Mary-Rose every single day since, well aware that, were things different, he may never have met her.

10. He'd always admired Padma Patil, from afar. She was, quite obviously, pretty – anyone with eyes could see that - and smart – she was a Ravenclaw, after all. Therefore, Terry often thought regretfully, she was way out of his league. Though he'd tried, several times, to get to know her better, be friends, he found himself often getting tongue-tied around her, nervous and shy and unable to speak properly. Which, of course, Anthony and Michael had always loved to tease him about. (Anthony could usually be shut up by reminding him of their own first meeting; Michael was an altogether different matter.)

But a couple of years after the war, when he saw her in the Leaky Cauldron alone, he had to speak to her, to catch up. And, at the end of the night, he had to ask her out – because he'd never have gotten over it if he hadn't.

And it was, he tells his kids every once in a while, the best decision he ever made.


	90. Anthony Goldstein

90. Anthony

1. His parents didn't tell him anything about Voldemort, the first war, or Harry Potter until he was eight years old. Though most wizarding children grew up knowing the story, his parents sought to protect him, and so didn't mention the story. Anthony assumes they'd have told him before he went to Hogwarts (or rather, hopes they would have, because it would have been very awkward and slightly embarrassing for him to turn up without knowing about it) but he knows they hadn't planned to tell him at eight.

However, he overheard a conversation between his father and his uncle one day, in which the war was briefly mentioned. And, though his parents tried to avoid his questions with the predictable, "We'll tell you when you're older," he wouldn't stop asking until he got the story – albeit the very basic, simplest version.

He was fifteen, though, before he found out why his parents had been so reluctant to tell him. Like many wizarding families, his father's had suffered. Anthony's paternal grandfather, great uncle, and cousin had all been lost to the cause, before Anthony himself was even born.

2. He was three the first time he asked for a baby brother, or so his parents tell him; Anthony doesn't remember. When his mother fell pregnant, which he vaguely remembers as her getting very fat and round and pressing his hand to her stomach several times, telling him to feel the baby kick, he asked her to make sure it was a brother. He remembers her laughing and telling him she would try. And, when his parents finally brought Greta home, it was several weeks before they could convince him that he had a sister, rather than the brother he'd wanted. Which was a bitter disappointment to Anthony, resulting in him refusing to look at the baby for a few days.

His father eventually sat him down and told him that being a big brother was a very responsible job, and that little sisters were just as good as brothers. It took Anthony a little while longer to come around to the idea, but as they got older, he and Greta were fairly close, and he was rather protective of her. (Which is why, when Michael first told him that he and Greta were dating, the urge to jinx him was so strong. But, after he calmed down, he did decide that Michael was one of the few people he'd trust with his little sister.)

3. He didn't want to go to Hogwarts. He used many excuses, from not wanting to leave Greta to being too ill to travel. The truth was, though, that he was scared. Of being so far away from his parents, of going to such an unfamiliar place, of having to meet so many people, and of not being good at magic. His parents, however, were firm on it. Neither had the ability, they told him, to teach him well enough at home. His mother swore that they wanted to keep him at home, but insisted that he needed to learn magic, properly. It took a few arguments, some tears (mostly from his mother, but a little bit from Anthony himself) and a bit of bribery to convince him to leave for King's Cross on September the first.

But, after his first week there, Anthony had to admit that his parents had been right.

4. His first meeting with Terry is something that embarrasses him to the this day. He'd never been particularly shy, but the fact that he was heading off to Hogwarts, the one place he didn't want to be, had made him feel very awkward (and still a little scared) so he found himself not only unable to think of anything to say, but struggling to look Terry in the eye. He sat, for several minutes while Terry was thinking of something more to say, telling himself to just _speak._ To say anything, anything at all. But he couldn't manage it, and so struggled on with the shyness.

Once he was sorted, though (into Ravenclaw, as his father had predicted) he felt a little more relaxed, and once Terry was sat opposite him it seemed as though they could be actual, real friends. And Anthony's shyness evaporated. Terry's surprise at the new, talkative Anthony threatened to bring back the awkwardness, but Anthony managed to stay himself. Still, whenever Terry wants to shut him up, all he has to do is bring up the awkward first meeting. Even after all those years, Anthony can't come up with a good comeback.

5. For a large part of his first year, he fell into a classic Ravenclaw trap (at least, that was what Professor Flitwick told him) where he assumed that because he'd been sorted into the house of the smart, he wouldn't have to work very hard. It was easy to think that the hat would have placed him somewhere else if there was any chance that he'd struggle with the work, and so he put very little effort in. He spent many lessons staring out of the window, or off in his own little world, thinking he would just somehow magically _know_ everything. And if his homework did come back with low marks, it didn't matter because he hadn't put much effort in anyway. When it came to exams, Anthony figured he could just read over his notes (or Michael's or Terry's, if he'd happened to neglect making his own) an hour or two before the exam, and all would be fine.

By Easter, however, he was starting to see serious flaws in his plan. Not only because his class notes held more doodles than actual words, or because his last few pieces of homework had come back remarkably low (the zero had been particularly painful) but because he felt that he'd actually learned very little. Sure, he'd done all the practical stuff, the fun stuff, but he couldn't have explained any of it, or recited any of the things he was supposed to know. And when everyone started talking about the exams, the ones he'd been so sure he could walk through, he started to feel extremely nervous.

Finally, Professor Flitwick asked him to stay behind at the end of one lesson, for a quick word. And told Anthony that he was worried about him – about the low homework marks, about the little attention he paid, about how he never seemed to know the answers to any of the questions in class. Though Anthony's first instinct was to make some excuse, talk his way out of it and leave quickly, he found himself spilling everything out; all his assumptions, and now his worries. Flitwick was sympathetic rather than angry, and told him it was something he'd seen thousands of times before. It could be rectified; but he'd have to work very hard.

And so Anthony spent his Easter holiday (well, a lot of it, anyway) reading over the notes Flitwick gave him, re-doing several pieces of homework, and doing a few practice tests Flitwick had got him. It was frustrating, exhausting, and a little embarrassing (Flitwick knowing his arrogance and stupidity was one thing, but all of the teachers?) but he did it, because the thought of failing terrified him. But when he sat his exams, seeing, to his surprise and relief, that he actually _knew_ the answers, he knew it was all worth it.

And ending up with top marks just made it all better.

6. The idea of a war terrified him. He wanted, desperately, to believe in the Ministry, in the _Prophet_ – to believe it was all in Harry Potter's head. But he knew it wasn't; he could feel it, sense it. But fighting, fighting Voldemort and his terrible followers? He was fifteen; he never considered that he'd end up fighting himself, but he worried about his family. About the world. And, yes, he was scared of dying. Joining the D.A wasn't his idea, nor something he was enthusiastic about, but Michael dragged him and Terry along. When they started actually learning, though, he got into it. It was fun, really, and somehow took the danger out of the whole situation (plus, he was still telling himself that there couldn't possibly a war, not going on nor about to happen) as well as giving him more chance of passing his DADA O.W.L.

When he heard, over the next summer about how Harry Potter and a few of the others had ended up at the ministry, faced You-Know-Who and his followers, all he could think was that he wouldn't have gone. If Harry, or one of the others, had summoned the entire D.A, requested someone to come with them, he wouldn't have gone. Knowing that worried him, shamed him, but he knew there was no chance he'd have faced Voldemort, or his Death Eaters.

And this was the reason he was so relieved the D.A didn't reform in his sixth year. Because how could he have attended, faced them all, knowing he was a fraud?

(By his seventh year, though, refusal wasn't an option. There was no choice; they had to fight.)

7. He tapped into his dormant rebellious side during his seventh year. He'd always done pretty much what he was told, followed the rules, stayed out of trouble. However this was different; Hogwarts, a second home to him, had been invaded, tainted. And so they had to fight, to protect; Hogwarts was theirs, and they couldn't let it be his. He was a frequent volunteer to graffiti the walls, spoke out in class, and other such things. He preferred the disruptive stuff to the more serious things, because the serious side to it all still scared him.

His parents would have, under normal circumstances, been horrified with his behaviour. The teachers would have eaten him alive. And the knowledge (even if it didn't really apply here) only made it all more fun, more satisfying.

(When he returned to complete his seventh year, behaving properly again was a bit of a disappointment to him.)

8. He hadn't expected to be fighting in a proper battle. That was the kind of thing Harry Potter and the others did, not him and his friends. The kind of thing they heard about afterwards, where Terry and Michael would say something about how they'd have liked to have been there, and Anthony would lie and agree with them. But here he was, preparing to fight, ignoring every instinct, and hiding his fears. He didn't want to be there, to fight. And when he went to make sure Greta left, and she begged him to come with her, he very nearly did. But he worried, about what others would think of him, what he'd think of himself. And so he simply hugged her tightly, and told her to go, get away from here.

She was sobbing as she left, and he was nearly doing the same himself. They'd grown a lot closer over the last year, mostly out of fear and worry. He'd spent all year protecting her the best he could; now he knew he might never see her again.

As his little sister (his baby sister, though he wasn't allowed to call her that anymore) sobbed, pleaded with him to come with him, and then asked him to promise that he'd live, that he'd make it home, Anthony felt his heart break.

He promised her. He knew, really, that he shouldn't, couldn't, but the words came out before he could stop them. And though Greta was far too old to really believe him, she let herself pretend to.

(Though he's never said it, never even thought it, he wasn't fighting for good, for the Harry, Dumbledore, the world, or even his life that night. He was fighting to keep his promise.)

9. Most of the night blurred into a mess of fear, adrenaline and chaos. In the few days afterwards, especially, nothing was clear. But he remembers, and always will, Michael shakily telling him that Terry was hurt. They'd just been given an hour off (though he hated that Voldemort was in control of it all, even as they fought) and he'd leaned back against a wall in relief, so glad of the break. And then he heard his name being yelled; Michael was running towards him, his face marked from tears. And Anthony knew something was wrong, stood up straight and braced himself. The words – just "Terry's hurt" turned his blood cold. His questions tangled as he tried to get them all out at once – how badly, where is he, what happened? But the most important question, was the one he couldn't voice – "will he live?" Michael shook his head, muttered something about the great hall, and then they were both running for the hall. Somewhere along the way, Anthony thinks he might have started crying, too, but the unwritten male code had been silently established months before – male-breakdowns weren't spoken of, at all.

They spent fifteen minutes – fifteen minutes where he rubbed his dirty, singed sleeve over his face, where he tried not to think about all the bodies around him, and the ones being brought inside, where he wondered what would happen when the hour finished – before Terry finally came round, looking weak and confused and far too pale – but alive. Anthony didn't recognise half of the emotions that ripped through him at that point.

He was energised, and fought his heart out during the last section of the battle. Seeing Greta's face when he walked through the front door made all the bruises, terror and effort worth it (though simply surviving may have made it worth it too). They all cried a little, and from that day on, he appreciated his family a lot more.

10. He went back to Hogwarts to finish his N.E.W.Ts. It wasn't an easy decision, but he managed it. And then all he craved was normality. A job, a house, a wife, some kids. A dopey dog and a car that he barely understood. All the things he'd thought he hadn't wanted.

And when he met Reece, a muggle-born Hufflepuff a couple of years younger than him, he saw it all. She wasn't his usual type, but he thought her perfect.

These days, Anthony has a job, a house, and a few kids, with a dim-witted dog and a car that routinely breaks down, despite him scarcely using it. And though of course it isn't perfect, he isn't always completely happy, and he has his fair share of problems, he has everything he wants.

Including Michael and Terry as his closest friends, honorary brothers and uncles to his children.


	91. Barty Crouch Junior

Been a little while since I updated, sorry about that. Started college again so I've been busy with that, plus that damn writer's block still keeps following me around. But we're into the nineties now - nine chapter's till a hundred.

So, quick thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, and onto Barty Crouch Junior...

91. Barty

1. As a child, a small child, his father was his hero. Little Barty doted on his father, idolised him, worshiped him. He would often sit in his father's little home office in silence, unbothered that his father was ignoring him, just because he wanted to be with him.

However, by the time he was eight, little Barty realised that his devotion was one-way – that his father didn't ignore him because he was busy with all his paperwork, but because he couldn't be bothered with his son. That when his father simply made "Hmm" noises when Barty tried to tell him things, before shouting at him to just leave him alone in peace, it wasn't because he was tired, but because he wasn't interested.

2. And so Barty tried to capture his father's attention. At first, he tried to be the perfect son. He was polite, tidy, and helpful. He spent ages reading books – or at least pretending to – because his father liked to read. When that didn't work, he became quiet, withdraw, moping about the house and never looking happy. He hoped that his father would see, would worry.

Instead, his father didn't notice, and his mother worried.

His next plan was to cause trouble. Being good hadn't worked – so being bad just might. He was, for the next few weeks, the terroriser of the quiet muggle street they lived in. Windows were shattered, cars covered in paint, gardens dug up, fences broken, and a bus stop somehow turned a bright, neon green, which mystified the locals, but gave Barty a huge amount of pride – it had almost been a accident really, but to accomplish that at the age of nine and a half...

3. He was sure that now magic was involved, now that it was obviously him, his father would _finally _notice him. He had to. So he waited, and waited. Eventually, his mother came to him, asked quietly if he was responsible for the bus stop, and the other stuff. To which he flatly replied "Yes." His mother looked so devastated he almost snatched back the confession, lied, denied it. But he watched her leave the room, and then his father walked in; his face red with rage.

And Barty thought; _Yes. Finally._ He sat quietly, a half-smile on his face as his father screamed and yelled at him. And hit him. Barty Crouch Snr was an old fashioned kind of parent.

He expected it to all change then; expected his father to take an interest, to try and keep him under control. That would have made the belting worth it. But he didn't; everything went back to how it had been before, and little Barty was bitterly disappointed, and disillusioned.

The day he left for Hogwarts, when his father was too "busy" to see him on to the train, he finally gave up on ever earning his father's attention – or his love.

4. He despised himself. Throughout most of his Hogwarts career, he despised every part of himself. His looks, his brains, his attitude. Even his name – because his name wasn't even really his; it was his father's, and he detested having that piece of the man he was growing to hate. He made few friends, but didn't bother to get close to any of them. By his second year, he spoke rarely to his father, telling him only the things he felt he had to, in the most detached, polite tones. By his third year, he stopped talking to his father completely – with the exception of the occasional "Yes, sir," or "No, sir," when his father spoke to him. He withdrew from his mother somewhat, also; though she seemed to be trying to make up for his father's lack of affection the best she could. But he isolated himself from those around him; then despised himself for feeling lonely.

5. He was fascinated by the rumours, the whispers. Voldemort, some whispered. Others were already too afraid to speak the name. How could one man, he wondered, spark so much fear? So much horror?

And seeing the way his father worked so hard against Voldemort...well, that made the idea very appealing...He wanted to join; to be a Death Eater. He wasn't sure how exactly to go about it; and several times, when he thought of a way to do so, his nerve failed him; he wasn't sure he dared join them. Wasn't sure he could.

His final summer, between his sixth and seventh years of Hogwarts, his father didn't speak to him once. He hadn't even, Barty though as the summer ended, _looked_ at him. And it was the final straw. He spent much of his last year asking discreet questions; and during the Christmas holidays, he got in touch with Bellatrix Lestrange. She cackled as he quietly told her he wanted to join, but agreed to take him to the Dark Lord. On a freezing, dark winter night, Barty went with Bella to the Dark Lord, swore his allegiance and offered his arm.

6. He fell in love with Bella over the next few months. She was aware of it; and though she was married, though she was uninterested in the love of a young boy, she seemed amused by it, and did nothing to discourage him. A part of him was aware that his infatuation was unrequited, but he found himself hopeful – surely, surely eventually she would return his feelings?

And so it was easy to swallow his fears and doubts and morals, to do everything Bella told him to. He followed her every order, without a second thought, without regret...except one. His first kill.

7. It was a muggle-born man she sent him for. The man was a few years older than Barty himself, but easy to kill; Barty took him by surprise, from behind, and killed him before the man was aware of his presence. Looking at the dead body made bile rise in his throat; blood rushed to his face in shame and horror, and he began to shake all over. He bolted, collapsing to all fours on the pavement, gasping for breath and sweating. He never knew how long it took before he calmed down, before he could stand. Then he went to Bella, told her the job was done.

And convinced himself that his only shame, his only sickness, at been because he'd attacked the man from behind, like a coward. He never forgave himself for it.

(And years later, watching Draco Malfoy try to do the same, his anger and shame came back to him. Though he didn't realise it, attacking Draco was him still trying to convince himself he'd been revolted by his cowardice, rather than the murder.)

8. It was all so confusing and terrifying. The Dark Lord gone, hidden – dead? – and the ministry rounding them up like sheep. Bella was furious, and he was scared. He hoped, really, that she'd offer some comfort to him; instead, she raged at him, screaming, slapped him, and pulled out her wand. Her husband (Barty had always hated Rodolphus, simply because he was married to Bella) stopped her from cursing him, or worse, and told her to calm down; that they'd find the Dark Lord. Barty was never quite sure how he ended up tagging along – Bella sneered that he was a stupid boy, a stupid child, and he was to leave her, now, and all he could think was that until he proved himself, she'd always see him that way. So they went along, and he tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom without thought or shame.

Then ministry officials were surrounding them, his wand was gone, and he was being arrested. He looked, then, in Alice's empty eyes, and still felt no shame – somewhere, along the way, he'd lost himself, and had no remorse for the destruction of a young family. All he could think was how the news would affect his father – and he smirked, hoping the shock would kill him.

9. Azkaban, though, was horrible. And after just a few days, Barty knew he had to, had to get out. And so he faced his father in court, lied, denied his Lord, and begged. He expected his father to come through for him, to free him out of loyalty, out of blood, or for his mother. Instead, his father denied him, as he had his Lord, and sent him back to the hell. Bella shot him a look as they were led away; a look of contempt, disgust, and the kind of satisfied glint people get when they know they're right. She was right about him. And she despised him...

That was the last time he saw her.

When his father finally came through for him – making it clear, of course, that it was for his mother, and that he hated his son – Barty felt able to breathe again. The cool air on his face was freedom – and yet his father's tight grip on him was clearly telling that he'd left one prison for another. But one day, he vowed, he would be free, and he _would_ prove himself.

10. It was easy, pretending to be someone else. Slipping into someone's life, their past and present, their mind and habits. Sometimes, he could even convince himself that he was Alastor Moody. Other times, he thought fleetingly that it was so easy to become someone else because he was no longer little Barty Crouch – he was no longer anyone. But he would be – he would be, when his Lord was back, he was be feared and respected and important. He would show his father, show Bella, show the world, just who he was.

He killed his father without a second thought, no regret or sorrow. And he sent Harry Potter to his death the same way.

A part of him wanted to tell Dumbledore everything, to gloat, brag. Of course, he couldn't have refused, not with the truth potion inside him, but he felt only pride as he told it all. They'd send him back to Azkaban, of course, but he was older now, stronger, and he would survive it until the Dark Lord could free him. Was willing, this time, to go to Azkaban for his Lord (though in his mind, his memories, he was always willing, and never denied his Lord). When he saw the dementor, moving towards him with its grotesque face on display, he realised what was going to happen. And despite the horror, the desperate need to get away, to get out of here and seek his Lord, a part of him accepted what was going to happen – and wondered if he could really lose his soul this way...A part of him thought he'd lost it already, a long time ago.

They say Barty was lost that day, forever. In truth, little Barty Crouch was lost long before anyone realised.


	92. Gabrielle Delacour

92. Gabrielle

1. Everyone always treated her as though she was fragile, breakable. As a child, she spent much time screaming that she wasn't made of glass, wouldn't shatter at the slightest knock. But still, everyone worried about her. She was what her parents called a surprise (it didn't take her very long to realise this was a euphemism for accident) but a good one. An amazing one, her mother had once told her. They'd hoped for more children after Fleur, her mother had explained, but it had never happened. Until, after they'd given up hope, she'd come along. So she sort of understood why they'd be protective, treat her as though she was precious, delicate, but it still annoyed her. Even Fleur was the same – the age gap between them, Gabrielle had thought once or twice, prevented them from being close. Instead, Fleur was as protective and affectionate towards her as their mother was.

The love was there, and Gabrielle always knew she was lucky to have it. She just often wished they could show it in a different way.

2. She had a little problem with lying when she was around seven. It was, probably, an attempt to show those around her that she wasn't so innocent and angelic. A way to show them that she was flawed, and bad. She lied about the most ridiculous things at first, little things that no one noticed – or cared – weren't true. She escalated gradually, until no one could fail to notice.

And she hardly got in any trouble. It infuriated her that her parents seemed more concerned than angry. By the time her eight birthday had rolled round, she'd accepted that she would always be innocent and perfect in her parents eyes, no matter what she did. And while they may never see her as a flawed individual, she soon learned that being able to get away with almost anything had its advantages.

3. She was almost nine when Fleur went to England for the first time – or rather, eight and five months, which, as Gabrielle told everyone, was almost nine. Fleur didn't seem very enthusiastic about it, and showed Gabrielle some drawings and photos of Hogwarts she'd found in books, complaining about every aspect of it (though Gabrielle didn't think it looked like a particularly bad place) and read several books on the country itself, equally as unimpressed, though she put an extra effort into the language, determined that she would be understood while she was over there. When Fleur wrote to tell them she was the school champion, would take part in the Triwizard Tournament, Gabrielle noticed how worried her parents seemed, and was uneasy about the whole thing.

So when she was approached and the second task was explained to her, her first instinct was to say no, to keep out of it (even if it was pleasing to be thought of as the most important thing to Fleur). Her parents, too, refused, talking about the dangers, (though the English ministry man insisted it was completely safe) about how Gabrielle was just a girl, a child...

So of course, Gabrielle had to do it, to prove to everyone that she could. It took a lot of talking, pleading, bitching, but she finally convinced her parents to let her travel to England, too, and take part. She'd be gone for only a day, they told her, arriving early in the morning and leaving after the task.

4. It was still nerve-wracking though, to know that she'd be underwater, practically knocked out. Even if the mermaid part was kind of cool. Her last thought, as she drifted to sleep, was that she hoped she'd wake up again.

So opening her eyes to find herself freezing cold, floating in a rather dirty-looking lake with two strange boys beside her was terrifying, even if she did recognise one as a fellow "hostage". She was relieved to see Fleur, accepted her sister's apologises, and cringed when she realised Harry Potter had saved her life. (Well, not really, but kind of.) Harry Potter, who she knew all about, had saved her, and all she done was look at him in terror. She should have, she thought, acted calm and cool, meeting a celebrity. She should have impressed him, not blinked at him.

And even if she did lie to her her friends back home, and later at school, that she'd had several conversations with Harry Potter, that they were friends (and later, to her great delight and general envy, she was able to tell everyone they were sort of related) she was always embarrassed and disappointed that she hadn't made a better impression.

(Of course, for a few weeks after the tournament, Harry Potter wasn't at the front of her mind. No, the dead boy was – because she'd seen, from her place in the stands, his body on the ground – when just a few hours ago he'd been alive, and she'd seen her sister burst into tears. So for a few weeks, all she thought of was murdered Cedric, her sister's friend.)

5. It was just a few days after her ninth birthday when Fleur announced that she was moving to England. She'd been talking about it, but no one had thought she'd actually do it. And now, suddenly, she was packing her things, telling them brightly that she had a job, and a place to live and everything. And when Gabrielle asked when she was coming home, Fleur hesitated for just a little too long.

"You're not, are you?" She whispered. "You're never coming home..."

Fleur sat slowly on the edge of her bed, looking at the floor. "I haven't thought that far ahead. I don't know if I'll even like it over there...Or if I'll ever want to come back. I'll visit, though, Gabrielle, and you can visit me..."

Visiting meant nothing to her. Though Gabrielle tried desperately to talk her sister out of going, she knew it wouldn't work – and it felt like she'd lost her forever.

"I have to do this, Gabrielle. I just do." Fleur told her quietly. She didn't understand it, exactly, but Gabrielle guessed that it had something to do with Cedric, with the war she'd heard rumours about.

The day Fleur left, Gabrielle vowed that she hated England, and would for as long as she lived. (England had, after all, stolen her sister.)

6. Her parents tried to keep the war from her. It wasn't too difficult, as it didn't really reach them, but Gabrielle read her sister's letters, and picked up on some of it. She knew the basic story, knew that Voldemort was back, but had no idea of the danger her sister was in, until they went over for the wedding. She knew that all the extra security wasn't normal, and realised just how bad things were. Not that she thought of it much, with last minute wedding stuff. And during the actual wedding, a war was the furthest thing from her mind.

Then; chaos. People running, people leaving, and people appearing. It was Bill who grabbed her, pulled her away from her place on the dance-floor, away from the crowd, while Fleur hurried to her parents. Bill who took her to safety, calmed her down, assured her that she was OK, everything was alright. And, though she'd hardly met him before the wedding, Gabrielle instantly loved her new brother-in-law.

7. She was, of course, thrilled at the war in Britain was over, that Voldemort was dead and her brother-in-law's best friend had saved the world (with help from her brother-in-law himself, and the rest of his family). But to learn that her sister had been there, could have been killed, was terrifying. And to learn that Bill's brother, Fred, who'd been nice to her and teased her and danced with her was dead...

She cried, when her parents told her. Cried for Fleur, and for Fred. And then she packed a bag and she and her parents left for England, to be with Fleur and attend the funeral. She still hated the country, even though, like the previous times she'd been there, she didn't see much of it. But seeing Fleur, seeing how well she fitted into the Weasley family (a family that, to Gabrielle, now felt so wrong, so broken, with one of them missing) how much she loved their little home, how much she loved the country itself, Gabrielle knew Fleur would never come home (or rather, that France was no longer her sister's home) and when she and her parents left, Gabrielle hugged her extra hard, saying the proper goodbye she always refused.

8. Victoire was the first baby she'd even known, ever held, and Gabrielle loved being an aunt, even if she hated that her niece was in a different country. Victoire was, in Gabrielle's opinion, the prettiest, smartest, most amazing baby ever, and she lavished attention on her, then cried bitterly when Fleur, Bill and the baby went back home. They sent pictures over, of course, and regular updates on her, but it wasn't the same. When Fleur told her that she was pregnant again, Gabrielle was both pleased and disappointed. Because Victoire was two, now, and she hadn't seen her since she was a month old. The prospect of having so little to do with another niece, or nephew, bothered her.

And so she made Fleur promise to bring her little family over once a year, every year. Fleur promised, and never once broke it.

9. She met Adrien through friends at a party, and hated him straight away. Loud, insulting, he tried to be funny (and, in her opinion, failed miserably) obviously thought a lot of himself, and acted completely bored when she politely started a conversation with him, and insisted on calling her "Gabby" which no one ever called her. Annoyed, offended, she stormed away from him, and avoided him for the rest of the night. And the next time he turned up when she met up with her friends, and the next, but he still kept turning up, with stupid remarks and a stupider smile.

He cornered her one day, in a friend's kitchen, asked what her problem with him was. Before she could stop herself, she started ranting, getting louder and louder, only insulted when he started to laugh at her. Laugh at her. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she started to storm passed him, when he grabbed her hand, pulled her back towards him, and kissed her.

He's still too loud, insulting, jokes too often, and calls her Gabby. But she loves him anyway. (Besides, he treats her like a normal person, rather than acting as though she'd shatter at the slightest knock.)

10. She went on to have a son and a daughter. When her eldest was nearing eleven, he asked her if he could go to Hogwarts, rather than Beuxbatons. She was both shocked and hurt, and started shouting, angrily telling him there was no chance of him going to another country to school, that he could get over the stupid idea straight away. Her son looked as shocked and hurt as she felt, and ran from the room. Adrien's angry look stung, as he followed their son, but it was three days before she sat down with Eugene, talking rationally. He told her he wanted to go because Louis was there – and Louis, being older and cooler was, she knew, his idol. It took a while for her to talk him out of it, but she managed it, and sent him off to her old school, instead. When Marielle's turn came, her daughter showed no desire to leave the country, to her relief.

The idea of losing her children in the same way she'd lost her sister (because seeing her once or twice a year, writing and receiving letters, swapping photos, wasn't enough, wasn't the same, and Gabrielle missed her sister) terrified her.


	93. Godric Gryffindor

Not really sure how well this reads - I don't think I've been all that nice to Godric. Thanks a lot for all those reviews, they still amaze me.

93. Godric

1. His earliest childhood memories are of fear, of pain, of tears and of screaming. His earliest childhood memories are of hiding, watching, crying, as his father beat his mother, both physically and magically. He watched as she screamed and sobbed while his father hit, kicked and cursed her. Watched, more than once, her run from the room, only to be dragged back and hurt more. He watched her never once fight back, too scared. He watched her stay in the house, stay with his father, day after day, week after week, year after year, too scared to run away.

And, though he loved her, though he despised his father, he grew to hate his mother almost as much for her cowardice.

(And to hate himself, too, for never daring to protect her.)

2. He was ten when his father first hit him. It was a careless slap, that hadn't hurt but had stung. And though later Godric would think that if he'd just spoken up then, stood up for himself, he could have saved himself years of pain, he simply stood in silence, scared and shocked. And so, whenever his father tired of beating his mother, he would turn on Godric. Sometimes it would be daily, sometimes he could go weeks without even shouting – and in those times, everything was almost happy, the tension would fade and he could pretend the bad stuff never happened. Only, of course, for the bad times to come back, the bruises and screaming to come back. Each time he was struck, or his mother was, each time his father would raise his wand, Godric would tell himself to be brave, to stop him.

And every time, he'd stay silent and still.

3. And he was fourteen when his father finally went too far. Godric was there, watching and despising himself, as his father used a curse on his mother. (In those days, there were no laws on using such curses, but Godric already thought of the crucio curse as unforgivable.) His mother screamed, screamed, sobbed. She dropped heavily to the floor, sobbing weakly, as his father tossed his wand aside. There was a period – ten minutes, maybe – where he ordered her to stand, shouted at her to get _up_, screamed at her to move, now, while she tried and failed, too weak and hurt. And Godric watched as his father lost it again, using his fists on her, hitting her until she bled, until the sobbing stopped.

Until the breathing stopped.

It was a while before either of them realised she was dead. His father instantly started to cry, begging her to wake up, though it was obvious she never would. Godric was devastated, and for a long while couldn't move. And then, finally, all the anger and horror burst out of him, and he had hold of his father's wand, was screaming curses and jinxes – some that he'd learned, some that he'd only heard his father use – and then two words escaped him, two words that his friends and he had whispered, in horrified awe of what they would do.

And when he realised what he'd said, what he'd done, he started to shake, violently, in shock. And, suddenly shame and fear and horror hit him, and he had to _run_, to get away forever.

He threw his father's wand down, and left his dead parents forever.

4. He travelled. He couldn't make a home anywhere, couldn't stay in one place very long, so he travelled, seeing places few others had, or would. He saw wonderful places; saw horrible places. And lived with the shame and fear of having murdered his father. And the shame of having stood by while his father murdered his mother. He was determined he'd never, _never_ be scared again, and faced every possible fear he could think of (except, of course, the fear of being found a murderer). He told everyone he met that he was afraid of nothing, and rose to their challenges. And he made himself learn every possible thing he could, too. Because he was determined to be a smart, skilled, brave wizard, rather than some scared kid with a dark past. Determined to prove himself, to himself.

5. He met Helga during his travels, won over instantly by her sweetness and kindness. There was never any kind of attraction between them – she became, almost instantly, like a sister to him, and it wasn't long before her loved her as one. They kept in touch frequently while he travelled, and he worked his way back round to her home often. He met Salazar a few years later, first greatly annoyed by the man, and his insistence that travelling was pointless as the land wasn't worth seeing, and then amused by him. They, too, became friends, and stayed in touch.

So when he visited Helga again, and she introduced him to Rowena, told him of their hopes to build a magical school, and invited him to join, he didn't hesitate. Not only was this the best idea he'd ever heard, but he'd grown tired of travelling, and this sounded like the sort of place he could make a home – a real, proper one. They spent days talking of the school before it occurred to him that he could ask Salazar to join them. Rowena seemed reluctant at first, but Helga trusted his judgment, and talked her round. When Salazar agreed, all he could think that he was going to have a home, with friends. It never occurred to him that they'd make history.

6. It wasn't easy. They made no money, relied on their magical skills, their savings, and donations. But he'd grown used to going without, to surviving on little, and so coped well with that side of it. Teaching, however, was a whole different issue. It wasn't something he'd ever done, or attempted, before, nor something he knew how to do. They all mostly guess at what they ought to do, and how to do it – with the exception of Rowena, who'd had experience in being taught, and seemed to understand what could be expected of children at various ages. But the energy involved, the long hours spent planning lessons or marking work, the often frustrating process of trying to teach a child something they couldn't understand made him think, more than once, of quitting. Just walking.

But he had to prove himself, had to face it. And so he selected the lion as his symbol, selected bravery as his virtue, and took on the minds of the future. And never regretted it.

7. He had no reason to doubt Rowena's story, none the least because it was Helga who told him. Why would he think it a lie? They had become a family during their years as teachers, Rowena as much a sister to him as Helga, and so there was no question of his support. During the pregnancy, the labour – where he and Salazar waited for hours, worrying and pacing and sending curious children back to their beds – and the months after, while Rowena adjusted to being a mother. They took over all her lessons for the first four months, and many of them for the six that followed, so she could spend more time on her daughter. They looked after Helena, too, and didn't dispute her decision to take Helena – as a baby, toddler and small, curious child – to her classes with her. Sometimes they even took her to their own. He thought, more than once, that Helena was almost as much his daughter, Salazar's daughter, Helga's daughter, as she was Rowena's. They doted on her, loved her.

But he did, later, understand the pressure they'd placed on her.

8. He watched Salazar deteriorate with no idea how to stop it, or why it was happening. And because of his uncertainty, he did nothing, stood back and ignored it. He worried, of course, but still, did nothing, other than occasionally make a point of disagreeing, and avoiding his friend. And then came the day it all collapsed. When he found Salazar dragging a young boy, screaming abuse (and was reminded of his father, of his father's abuse) he snapped, finally standing up and forcing it all to stop (as he had done the day his father had murdered his mother). It was that comparison – even as he strode towards Salazar, he was seeing his father, even as he started to shout at him to let the boy go, he was seeing himself raising his father's wand, hearing his voice muttering horrific words – that forced him to control his anger. His harsh grip on Salazar's arm the only indication of his anger, Godric forced himself to remain to calm and ordered Salazar to let the boy go.

He was both hurt and angered by the accusations, but his blood went cold at Salazar's last words. _This castle holds my secrets. And one day, the true heir will open the chamber, unleash the secret, and rid the school of all but the true._

Though he told Rowena and Helga – and the students who'd witnessed the exchange – that Salazar had meant nothing, that there was no danger, he knew he was lying to them, and searched the castle as often as he could.

And was only further scared when he found nothing.

9. Once again, he accepted Rowena's stories about her daughter. Why would he doubt that Helena was with friends, relatives, or travelling? He was unconcerned – Helena was a bright young girl, and he was sure she could look after herself. Besides, he had little time to even think about her – he'd decided to marry. In truth, the "who" was not important to him; Godric had decided he wanted a son, a heir, and so a wife was simply a way to get one. He selected his bride carefully, though, wanting a one suitable for himself and his future son.

Rowena – who seemed to be growing gradually more withdraw, and seemed even ill – was uninterested in his plans (which bothered him a little, really) but Helga was greatly annoyed. She raged at him, she talked rationally with him, she sent him dark, angry looks. He sort of understood why she'd be so insulted, on behalf of womankind, by his attitude, but had no intention of changing his mind. So he married a nice woman from the village, aware that Helga had taken her aside, days before the wedding, and explained his reasons for proposing. And his fiancée married him anyway; so Godric's conscience was clear – he was using her for a child, she for fame and respect. It may not be an ideal marriage, but it was equal.

(And, though he never admitted it anyone, Godric would never had married for love – because his father had, despite it all, still loved his mother. So for Godric, love was twisted and painful and damaging to everyone.)

10. He never got his son; his wife bore him three daughters, and was giving birth to another when both she and the baby died. It left Godric alone, with three young girls he didn't know, a school to run – and Rowena was growing increasingly sick, so running the school was even more difficult – and no son. It was Helga he went to, miserable. And it was Helga who told him, angrily, that he had three children – children, and he had to stop thinking of them as the girls he didn't need or want – who needed him. And, she told him, he would damn well be a father to them. He was shamed enough to agree, and ask for her help. Her own son was older than his youngest – but younger than his middle daughter – and so she was easily capable of looking after them. For several months he tried to raise them, to be a good father.

And after that, he simply left them to Helga, who they loved.

After Rowena's death - and she shared her final secrets with him just days before releasing her final breath - he used the excuse of the school, though he knew Helga saw through it. But by then she loved his daughters as her own, and his daughters seemed almost to hate him.

So Godric, who'd lost two of his only real friends, who'd lost his wife, let his daughters go, and concentrated on the school. He would be remembered as a Hogwarts founder, not as a father, and he was content with that.


	94. Daphne Greengrass

Sorry it's taken me so long, I've been blocked again. But, only six chapters left now...Thanks for all the reviews, they mean a lot. Daphne Greengrass now, Astoria's sister.

94. Daphne

1. She was the product of her father's first marriage. Or, rather, the cause of it. Not that anyone had told her such a thing – but Daphne did the math when she was about nine, and knew that her mother was defiantly pregnant – quite a bit pregnant – when the wedding took place. She supposed her father must have loved her mother, at least somewhat. Once, when she was small, she asked how they'd met, and he smiled fondly as he said they'd grown up together, been friends for years.

He'd been almost nineteen when they'd married; she just seventeen. And four months short of her eighteenth birthday, Daphne's mother had gone into labour, birthed a child, and died.

So not only was she the cause of her parents' marriage, Daphne had thought during her angst-filled early teens, she was the cause of her mother's death.

2. He father remarried when Daphne was almost two. She doesn't remember it; doesn't remember the first time he brought Sabrina into their home. Nor does she remember the birth of her little sister. It was something that seemed to always have been; the dead mother she didn't remember, the step-mother who treated her as her own, and the younger sister she never thought of as just half.

But she was a Daddy's girl. Her father was away often, on his inexplicable "work trips" and she missed him bitterly while he was away. She would get snappy and resentful while her father was gone; and her step-mother was the same.

Daphne was fourteen when she found out just why her step-mother was so distressed by her father's absence, when she overheard an argument.

In which her step-mother sobbed that if her father had one more affair, _one more_, she was leaving. Taking the girls and leaving. (And Daphne never forgot that she was included in that, never forgot that her step-mother loved her just as much as Astoria, and saw Daphne as her own.)

Daphne ran to her room, shocked and hurt and horrified. Something inside her changed that night; the man she doted on was no longer perfect, the woman she so often argued with earned both respect and pity, and Daphne's trust in humanity was damaged. Because if the father she loved so much, who seemed to adore her, could betray his family in this way – as wasn't such an act a betrayal of his family, his wife and children and the life they had? – could hurt her so much, what could the rest of the world do?

(So he was always, always tainted for her; but she never once told Astoria, or even implied it. Because Astoria still saw their father as perfect, still respected him, and Daphne refused to destroy such a thing.)

3. She knew how much Astoria resented the parties, the events they were dragged to and they way they were treated as possessions. She herself disliked being described as "my beautiful daughter Daphne" as it seemed to her that beauty was a compliment given to people with nothing else to offer. Beauty was not the most important quality, not the most admirable or the most valued, and so her beauty meant nothing to her. But she'd long since accepted the lifestyle, and didn't care what people thought of her.

And when Astoria, at fifteen, announced that she was not attending anymore of "those stupid parties" Daphne felt immense pride in her sister for standing up for herself in such a way, but also thought Astoria was over-reacting somewhat. For her, the one who so could easily have been considered less important, who could have been considered as not a real part of their family, being the motherless step-child, being accepted so easily and being proud of was a relief.

(Even if, after she learned of her father's indiscretions, his approval meant much less to her.)

4. She was terrified of going to Hogwarts. Not because of the lessons, the people, or the school itself. No, like many wizarding children, her terror was based solely on the sorting. Her father was a Slytherin; her step-mother and birth mother were Slytherins; most of her ancestors were Slytherins. And though no one ever said – or even implied – that they'd be disappointed in her for not becoming a Slytherin, Daphne was certain they would be, and even, during her darkest nights, wondered if she'd be disowned, thrown out, have her name and heritage stripped from her if she strayed into another house.

So she was shaking as the sorting hat was dropped over her head; close to tears as the little voice spoke to her. To her dying day she never remembered exactly what that little voice said; but there were some words of comfort, gentle soothing an assurance.

And she was sent over to the Slytherin table. And later, in her new bed, she cried in relief.

5. She'd always been protective of Astoria. Maybe it was the age gap; maybe it was due to the delicate fragility she always saw in her sister. But when the war started – properly started – she wasn't, like everyone else, worried for the family members back home. She was worried for her sister. Worried that something would happen at the school – as pure-bloods, they were safer than others, but their parents were not Death Eaters, and Daphne thought that meant they were probably fair game – and worried that the other students, students who were losing family members to the war, would retaliate against the Slytherins.

What if Astoria was hurt, simply for being a Slytherin?

So Daphne did her best to make sure her sister was safe, and worried every night.

6. She despised the Carrows. Despised Death Eaters, Voldemort, and the Slytherins who enjoyed the horror Hogwarts had become. She had never been a muggle-hater, or a muggle-born hater, and the idea that people were being killed simply because of their blood was, in her opinion, atrocious. So the fact that first years – first years for goodness's sake, _children_ innocent children – were being tortured and terrified made her feel sick.

But she had no idea how to help; no idea how to stop it. And so Daphne stayed silent, was repulsed in private, and tried to keep herself and her sister safe.

And, though she dare not voice the opinion, she hoped with all her being that Harry Potter, or the Order of the Phoenix, or even Dumbledore's Army, would somehow put an end to it all.

7. Getting her sister out was the most important thing. Daphne never considered staying and fighting, for either side. Later, she wondered if that made her a coward; she decided it did, but then, she never had thought of herself as brave, or pretended to. When Daphne heard that Death Eaters were on their way, her only thought was getting Astoria out. Getting to safety. Keeping them both alive.

In that moment – that hour – she didn't care about the war, about Voldemort or his followers or his enemies. She didn't care who won, who died. She cared only about getting home, getting her sister home.

And so she grabbed Astoria's hand, pulled her along with the crowd, and refused to think about what she was leaving behind.

It was only later, when they were home and waiting for news, that Daphne wondered what this night could mean. How it could change everything. And who would die. She wondered, both scared and darkly excited, which side would win.

When her father entered the room, looking stunned, and telling them that You-Know-Who was dead – _dead _– that Potter was alive, that many were dead and arrests were taking place, Daphne closed her eyes, and felt only relief.

It was right, she told Astoria later. The right side had won, the right people had survived.

8. "Draco Malfoy. For goodness' sake Astoria, do you know who he is? What he was?" She snapped it out, angry at her sister for her stupidity, angry at him for corrupting her this way. "How long has this been going on? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I knew you wouldn't like it." Astoria told her quietly. "We've been together for months, and I couldn't even tell you. I love him, Daphne. I'm telling you now, because I love him. And you have to try accept that, for me."

She didn't approve. It would be years before she would accept. But Daphne understood that her sister was in love, and was loved in return. Daphne understood that Draco made her sister happy. So she celebrated the engagement, when it came a few months later. She agreed to be maid of honour. And when she was told Pansy Parkinson had turned up, was trying to talk Draco out of the marriage, she stormed off to where they were.

"Pansy. I didn't know you'd been invited." She said it coldly, not only because this woman was trying to ruin her sister's wedding, but because they'd never gotten along. Different circles, and automatic dislike.

"My family were." Pansy snapped. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm talking to Draco."

"I do mind, actually. And, from what I can see, so does he. Are you going to let go of his robes, Pansy, or will I have the pleasure of making you?" Daphne looked pointedly at where Pansy hands were clutching the front of Draco's robes, so hard her knuckles were snow-white. As colour stained her face, Pansy dropped Draco's robes, and he took a step back, looking disgusted. "I'll deal with her, Draco. You go see to the last minute things."

He escaped quickly, and Daphne looked at Pansy until the other woman spoke. "_We_ were supposed to marry." She told Daphne quietly. "We're meant to be together. He doesn't love her – he loves me..."

"He never loved you. Never will." Daphne said flatly. "He is repulsed by you – didn't you see his face just now? He's never wanted you, you stupid girl. Never, and you were the only one who couldn't see it." She pitied her. Despite the deep-seated dislike, she pitied her. "Leave, now, Pansy. You need to leave." She got one of her cousins to escort Pansy out, and never mentioned it again.

9. She never forgot, though. What loving someone – and even if Pansy hadn't truly loved Draco, she'd believed herself in love, and wasn't that practically the same? – had done to Pansy Parkinson, reducing her to a desperate, pathetic person. And what loving her father had done to Daphne's step-mother; that she allowed him to betray her and hurt her, over and over again. Even her mother had suffered for love, Daphne thought. She'd loved, married, and died, all before her eighteenth birthday.

Love, as far as Daphne saw, damaged all it touched. It hurt and destroyed and broke those who weren't smart enough to avoid it. Even Astoria was putting herself through the social events she despised, was subjecting herself to the whispers and stares and mutterings that came with the Malfoy name, all because she loved.

And Daphne decided that she was too smart to love, to fall into the damaging trap so many others had. And then she met Cameron. They clicked instantly, but remained friends for three full years before she admitted the depth of her feelings. He'd understood, he told her quietly, that she needed time – and he knew all her secrets by then – but he couldn't wait any longer. She either trusted him, now, risked it all with him, and believed that he would never, ever hurt her, or they would remain friends, and only friends forever.

"I can't wait forever." He murmured. "But one more week, Daphne. One more week, for you decide what you really want."

And after four days, she went to him.

10. The idea of twins terrified her. She'd babysat her nephew once in a while, but that was hardly preparation for twins, was it? Two babies, all at once, when she wasn't even sure she could handle one? Cameron was just as terrified as she was, though more excited, which caused her endless guilt – shouldn't she be thinking happily of the future, of first steps and words and things like that, rather than being terrified of the day she'd have to birth them, of the days following, when she'd have to struggle to feed and change and soothe two children?

As it turned out, there were some complications that caused her to collapse, four weeks before she was supposed to give birth. She awoke in hospital to find her husband beside her, bearing evidence of recent tears. He nearly cried again as he told her that she'd almost died, the twins had almost died, had been delivered from her in hopes of saving them – and though she was now safe, healthy, alive, their babies were in danger. "They might not make it." He whispered.

And suddenly she wasn't worrying about how she'd handle motherhood, how she'd handle twins. She was looking her two tiny, helpless children, and wondering how she'd possibly live if they died.

Both her children survived, however, and weeks later, Daphne took home a son and a daughter, and, as she watched them sleep, knew she'd nearly deprived herself of all of this, based on other people's experiences.

"I guess I made the smart choice in the end." She murmured, then sat down to watch the twins sleep.


	95. Rita Skeeter

I was sort of putting this one off, because I didn't know where to start, but it turned out to be easier that I'd thought. Which worries me, because that could mean it isn't any good...Big thanks to all my reviewers, and wow, five more chapters. Don't know who I'm actually going to write about, but still, five more chapters.

95. Rita Skeeter

1. From a very young age she worried about how she looked. The children who lived near her would laugh at her, tease her, about her frizzy hair and huge glasses, about the clothes that were a little too baggy for her scrawny frame. Once, at the age of six, she stood looking into a mirror for an hour, just picking out all the flaws she could find and crying about them. Which lead to the discovery of a new flaw; her eyes swelled while she cried, making them look too big for her head. Which, she decided, was too big for her body anyway...

It was a bad cycle, and it was a problem that stayed with her for her entire life. She worked at being confident, spent hours on her hair and make-up, and never felt quite good enough.

(Which may be the reason she revelled so much in destroying people's reputations; so the rest of the world would see that they had just as many flaws as she did.)

2. It was just Rita and her mother. Rita's mother had been young when she'd had her, and her father had died before her birth. So it was just the two of them, in a little muggle flat. Her mother seemed to want them to be close – and she was always saying things like, "me and you, kid, against the world" or "we have all we need, don't we Ree? We've got each other." She did her best to act like they could be best friends, and showered Rita with affection and presents.

But Rita, thought she loved her mother, of course, hated the whole situation. The tiny flat in the giant block, where the muggle kids would tease her and laugh at her. The dirty city outside, without even a garden for her to play in. And the lack of a proper family. They were, as far as she could see, just mother and daughter. A family needed a dad, and a brother or sister – maybe even more than one. And a dog and a house and a car.

So instead of counting herself lucky for having a mother who was devoted to her, Rita felt deprived.

3. She was looking forward to going off to Hogwarts. Getting out of the little muggle flat, away from the muggle children – though she insisted to everyone, always, that she had no problems with muggles, she disliked being around them for very long – away from her mother. Becoming a proper witch, and making friends.

And she decided she'd not longer be quiet little Rita, that funny looking kid who never stood up for herself. Within a month at Hogwarts, her classmates and teachers knew her as being mouthy. Within a term, her whole house knew it, too. And though she was widely disliked – and aware of it – she made friends, was away from muggles, and didn't have to put up with her mother's girls-nights-in, family-nights, mother-daughter shopping trips, and all the rest.

4. She was in her third year before she discovered her talent for discovering secrets. She happened across a couple embracing in the courtyard, when everyone was supposed to be in a lesson – she herself had run back up to her dorm to retrieve her homework – and even as she smirked and tried to get past them without interrupting, she realised who they were. Not that they, themselves, were important to her. No, the important part was that she knew that boy there had a girlfriend, and that girlfriend was the cousin of the girl he was currently kissing. To a thirteen year old, such a thing was a scandal, and without even thinking about it, she'd given a delighted laugh and ran, bursting back into her classroom and telling The Girlfriend exactly what she'd seen.

It didn't bother her that The Girlfriend ran off in tears, or that she never spoke to The Cousin again, or even that The Boyfriend was treated with disdain by most of the girls in his year for a long while.

All that mattered was the sheer excitement she got from discovering such a thing, and the satisfaction of making sure everyone knew.

5. By her fourth year, no one would tell Rita anything of importance. Even her closest friends refused to confide their secrets in her. Not, of course, that it stopped her from discovering things – teenage scandals were rife in Hogwarts, and so Rita contributed often to the grapevine. And loved every minute of it. It wasn't long before she developed her ambition – to write for a newspaper, or a magazine, or _anything_ revealing such things to the whole world. She would be famous, she decided. She would be loved and hated, admired and feared. She would get paid for doing exactly what she loved.

And if that meant losing a few friends, if that meant offending or upsetting a few people, if that meant ruining a few reputations, then why would she care?

6. It wasn't as quick or as easy as she'd hoped. She got a place with a small wizarding paper, one that was read by, as she told everyone disdainfully, about five people in the whole country. It was a way away from where she wanted to be, but Rita was determined. If she had to start with some pathetic rag, she'd start there. A year later, however, she was bored and annoyed. Covering stories a day after they'd been in the _Prophet_ was embarrassing, and even more so since she was only covering the small, unimportant ones. And then she discovered a scandal in the ministry – and weren't scandals her life's work? A little more digging, and she'd exposed a top ministry personnel as not only taking bribes but cheating on his wife. She wrote the three page article, went to her editor, and informed him she had the biggest story his paper had ever seen.

It took a few days for word-of-mouth to spread, then a few more for the ministry to act, sacking their worker instantly. The aftermath delighted her; he was kicked out by his wife, his mistress refused to have anything to do with him, and most of his friends avoided him. She'd single-handedly destroyed a man's life, and she was certain no one could ignore her skills now.

She was right, too. Two weeks later she was settling behind her new desk at the _Daily Prophet._

7. It didn't take long, now she was more high-profile, for people to get wary around her. And when people were wary, they were often reluctant to say anything in front of her, never mind something that could lead her to a story. She agonised for a while, worried she'd lose her job, her credibility, if she couldn't keep the stories coming. Sure, she still covered current events, interviewed people, but her editors and readers expected more, didn't they?

It took a while for the idea to hit her. She was in the middle of interviewing an animagus for a small upcoming piece, when it hit her that this could be _it_ – her disguise, her tool. Once she'd finished with the official interview, she found out all she could about just how to become an animagus from her interviewee, and then through her own research. It took her the best part of a year to manage it, and she injured herself several times, but she finally managed it.

And became a beetle. That was a bitter disappointment. She'd wanted to become an animal – not an _insect_! It was hardly safe, was it? She could get stepped on, she could fall off a _step_ and die on impact, she could get blown away by the damn breeze! Angry, disappointed, and humiliated, it was four months before she used her "disguise".

And only then did it seem worth it, did it seem useful. Who, after all, noticed a beetle when they were having their most private conversations?

8. She'd never taken much interest in Harry Potter. As far as she was concerned, the story was done, there, and done to death. Sure, the rumours about his first year, his second year, and the whole Sirius Black thing were interesting to the public, but Rita was always busy with other stories or interviews at the time, and took little interest in the boy. The Triwizard Tournament, however, piqued her interest. A dangerous, long-banned competition, which was guaranteed to bring honour and money and fame to the winner – but could also bring death. Write it from that angle, she thought, capture the reader's interest...emphasise all the danger...maybe exaggerate a bit if need be...

And then she was told the news – the thing needed to make the story _the_ story of the year – to make Harry Potter the ultimate source of interest – the story to make her career!

She stayed up all night, making notes, deciding on angles, and drafting parts of the story before she'd even met the boy.

(Later, after that stupid girl had ruined her life, she wished she'd never even considered the story.)

9. She hated being out of work. She'd managed to save up some money, but not enough. Every time she looked in the mirror all she saw was flaws, the things she could no longer hide. She even considered moved back in with her mother – but she'd now remarried, and had another daughter. And while Rita's mother would have gladly welcomed her, while Rita's sister, all of five years old, hardly knew who she was, Rita refused to lower herself, to move into the family she wasn't really a part of, and hadn't wanted to be. So while Rita's mother now had the daughter she'd always wanted, Rita was slipping further and further into unhappiness and despair.

She might have hit full-blown depression if it wasn't for Dumbledore's death. The book began to write itself in her head, before she'd even started the research. As the royalties started pouring in, she barely thought about the war, hardly worried compared to others. (Even if she did struggle to sleep at night.)

And when it was all finally over, when Voldemort was dead, Rita bypassed the parties and the funerals, the celebrations and memorials, and instead started to write her next book, the detailed account of Harry Potter's placed in the war.

10. Her career picked back up, both the journalism and the books. No one remembered the time Rita hadn't worked, and she was back to being famous, loved, hated, admired and feared. She used the best money could buy to hide her ageing, and never once considered marriage or children, though her mother would often bring up the subject. A relationship would take up too much time and effort – and men were often intimidated by her, too – and the idea of children...well, children both terrified and disgusted her. Why on earth would she want to go through the horrific process of pregnancy and childbirth, to be stuck with a drooling, snotty creature she disliked?

No, family life wasn't for her, and that never changed. Rita Skeeter was married to her work.


	96. Helga Hufflepuff

Well, this has taken me ages, so I'm sorry. And I don't think it's particularly good, either. But, bright side, four left till we've reached a hundred. If I can actually write another four. You might remember me mentioning ages ago that I was considering doing kind of joint chapters - e.g The Weasleys - and I think that I'll probably start them now.

Thanks for all the reviews, you guys amaze me.

96. Helga

1. She was a lonely child. She lived with her parents in a small house, in, it seemed, the middle of nowhere. A cottage far, far away, she often thought. There were no children nearby, or people at all for that matter. She had no siblings, and soon took to wondering the fields around her, alone, talking to imaginary friends, or pets.

It was a bright, sunny day when she found the badger. It was rare for her to find any creature, so she spent several minutes watching it in amazement, a huge smile on her face. Then she began to talk to it, chatting away while the badger ignored her. She spent several hours with it, fascinated, before she had to go home. She hoped to find it again the next day, and was disappointed when she never did. But, for many years, that badger was the closest thing to a friend she had, and she never forgot it.

2. She left home as soon as she could. Not that she didn't love her parents; not that she hadn't developed some affection for the little house and it surrounding. But it was suffocating her – the loneliness, the isolation, the simplicity of it all. So Helga left, promising to write often, and started to travel, with no idea where she was going. It was both scary and exciting, and the best thing she'd ever done. She took any job she could get, lived anywhere she could afford, and moved on when she got bored. She met people, made friends – _friends_ – and felt alive.

Godric was her first friend, and some part of her thought that made him most important, though Helga would go on to make many more. He was the first one who listened to her, the first one who loved her, the first one who swore to stay in touch. And he kept to it. That meant more to her than she could ever explain, and she could only hope he knew.

She developed loyalty to every friend she made, simply because they all meant so much to her. Loyalty, she decided, was the most important quality a person could ask for, or receive – because without the loyalty or yourself and of others, what would happen to you?

3. Rowena was the friend she grew closest to, however. Rowena had led a lonely childhood too, and so it was possibly that which bound them together to swiftly, so strongly. They shared secrets, lives, hopes and dreams.

And when Rowena tentatively told her about her idea, of a magical school where every child could learn, if they wished, Helga was dazzled. The idea took root and grew in her mind instantly – a safe place, where skilled witches and wizards would teach everything they knew, so that knowledge could be passed from generation to generation. The idea of a grand castle – and it was her who suggested a castle – where anyone and everyone was welcome, accepted, thrilled her.

Oddly, though it was Rowena's idea, her dream, it was Helga who talked her into believing it could be a reality, and into taking the risk and making it one.

And by the time they'd agreed, absolutely, to go for it, the dream was as much Helga's as Rowena's.

4. It was Rowena's uncertainty that made her suggest involving more people. Safety in numbers, more support, more power. And Godric was, of course, her first choice. And he went for it straight away, finally ready to settle down, make a home. Rowena spent the next few days constantly writing, noting down every idea that came to her. When Godric suggested his friend, Salazar, Helga trusted his judgment easily, though Rowena was nervous. Still self-conscious over the idea, Helga supposed, and reluctant to share something so important to her with another stranger, this time one who didn't have Helga's complete love and faith to vouch for him. But when the met Salazar, something clicked, everything fell into place – this, Helga was sure, was it – this was exactly the way things were supposed to be.

5. It was a long, stressful process, and several times, Helga wondered if it was going to be worth it. In her darkest moments, it was only her loyalty to her friends, the fact that she'd already committed, that kept her involved. Otherwise, she may just have abandoned the idea. And then there were the times when everything was going right, when Rowena had just come up with an amazing idea, and Helga knew she was exactly where she wanted to be.

When everything was complete, and they had their students – if a very small number of students – Helga felt nothing but pride and hope, in what they'd created and the future. She chose loyalty as her most important trait, and then, when the others chose their animals, she remembered the badger.

And Hufflepuff house was created.

6. She would never forget the moment Rowena came to her, her eyes and voice hollow, and whispered that she was going to have a baby. Helga was horrified by the story – told to her in the same hollow voice – and heartbroken when Rowena looked up, met her eyes, and whispered, "What am I going to do?" For a moment, just a moment, Helga allowed sympathy for Rowena and anger at the muggle to fill her, then she pushed it away and did what she had to, for Rowena. Assurances, lies, support, excuses. The truth was so deeply buried Helga wondered if she might forget it herself; her own aptitude for complex, convincing lies disturbed her. But what else could she do?

7. She took Salazar's abandonment particularly hard. She'd thought they were friends, close friends, bound by the years, the memories, and their legacy. She'd thought the bond and the loyalty was a two-way thing. And, for all his flaws, for all his mistakes, she'd loved him just as much as she did Godric and Rowena. So to watch his breakdown – and to fear that he might have slipped into insanity – was heartbreaking and terrifying, and to watch him walk away from them, away from Hogwarts, was devastating. It had never entered her head that one of them would walk – she was sure only death would take her away from this place, and she'd assumed it was the same for the others.

Things were never quite the same after he left, never felt exactly right. And Helga couldn't help but think that this was the beginning of the end for them – Hogwarts itself could last until the end of time, they'd make sure of that. But the founders...They were forever damaged, now, she thought one night. And once one had gone, wouldn't the others soon follow? Surely, their days were now numbered?

8. Helena's disappearance was the next step. Though Helga listened to every excuse, she knew Rowena, knew Helena, and saw the lies. It didn't take a genius to connect the dots, and though Helga never mentioned it to Rowena, for fear of hurting her, she knew exactly what happened. She tried not to dwell on it, concentrating on her own marriage, her own infant. But the situation troubled her. And then it was worse; she could feel Rowena growing sicker and sicker, weaker and weaker. Helpless, Helga did everything she could, and knew there was no hope. Rowena was going to die; three would be down to two. And there was nothing to do but wait for it, really.

She known that Rowena's death was coming closer and closer – though she refused to say it, to even think it – but she was distraught when Rowena was finally gone. Not just because she'd lost her closest friend, but because she hadn't been there; she'd ignored every instinct, held on to hope she knew was false, and hadn't said a proper goodbye.

9. And, to make matters worse, Helena was back, as a ghost. She'd lost two people who meant everything to her – three, counting Salazar – and everything seemed to be falling apart around her. Though Helena, after one willing conversation, avoided her best she could, Helga was determined not to focus on what she'd lost. Instead, she turned her concentrations to Godric's children, who had lost their mother only months before. She had been trying to get Godric to take interest in them, to be a real father, for months. But he was uninterested, unloving, and Helga couldn't help herself. She gave up on Godric, and accepted his daughters as her own.

10. Her husband died a year later, leaving Helga to mourn yet another, and to ply her affection on the children. It was just she and Godric left, but Helga had lost interest in the school. It seemed empty, now, without Rowena and Salazar, and the ghosts who'd made Hogwarts their home were a permanent reminder, to Helga, of how things had ended up, so she disengaged herself gradually, leaving more and more to Godric. Eventually, it was time to start teaching her children – and Godric's daughters were hers, now, and only hers despite their name and blood – the daily running of the school, so that they were able to take it over. By the time Godric, too, died, they four of them were capable, and Helga was able to leave the school to them, knowing that it was safe. Away from the school, she contented herself with the good memories, and found her pride in Hogwarts. Despite how it all ended, she decided, only weeks before she breathed her last, they'd created something amazing, made a lasting difference, and that was more than they'd ever thought they would.


	97. The Potters

Well, here we go. The first of what I'm going to optimistically assume will be four "joint" chapters, taking us to the end. I won't say what else I'm planning in case I change my mind, but I'm pretty sure chapters for a single character are done, now.

Thanks for reviewing – three to go...

97. The Potters

1. James Potter's blood-line goes back several hundred years, is almost completely pure, and, as most pure-blood lines are, inter-crossed here and there, with cousins marrying and multiplying. They have, as do many others, muggle-haters and muggle-murderers in their family history. And, sometime in the 1800s, there was suspicion of one Potter murdering his daughter, after she fell for a muggle, though this was never proven, and the speculation was largely used during the next century to entertain the children.

By the 1900s, most of the Potters had out-grown the old ways and prejudices. James had an uncle who was a pure-blood fanatic, but had no contact with him. Though his family weren't very big, he had a couple of cousins who were half-bloods, and James was taught that blood and birth weren't important, so long as magic was there. He may have been, technically, pure-blood, but it didn't matter at all, to either James or his parents.

2. James was a surprise to his parents. They'd tried to have a child, for many years, and been unable to. Eventually, they'd lost hope, and given up on ever having the kids they'd planned. They busied themselves with nephews and nieces, children of friends, and told themselves that they were happy enough, didn't need a baby to complete their family, and, when they couldn't convince themselves of that, told each other that it just wasn't meant to be.

And then, there they were, with the Healer telling them that, actually, there was nothing wrong with Mrs. Potter, she wasn't ill, as they'd thought, but was actually pregnant. Through the shock and disbelief were tears of sheer happiness – finally, when they'd long since given up, they were going to have a child.

They swore, as the months progressed and what seemed like an endless wait drew to an end that they would love their child always, no matter what, and make sure he knew. That they would give him everything he needed, wanted, so that he knew just how special he was to them.

3. It was a difficult pregnancy, though. She was ill throughout, never felt hungry, forcing down food for the baby's sake, and was always tired. She went through phases of being unable to sleep, laying awake most of the night, worrying about anything and everything, so sleeping for twelve full hours. They both worried about everything; terrified that the baby wouldn't be healthy, or, worse, that he wouldn't live to the end of the pregnancy and labour.

The labour itself lasted thirty-seven hours, leaving them both terrified and frustrated as James took his time. And then, finally, he was out, pink and screaming, and both his parents sobbed in relief and joy.

4. They had a substantial amount of money, more passed down through the family than from their own earnings. They lived comfortably, and James was twelve when he inherited an enormous sum from a great-aunt, which he wasn't allowed near till he was of age, but meant he was lax about his future, announcing himself as practically set for life. He also, a year later, inherited money from the muggle-hating uncle, which disgusted him. He never spent a knut of it, and planned to scatter it around Diagon Alley when Sirius had a better idea.

It took only minutes to convert the gold into muggle cash, and to let it fly away into muggle London, but it had them laughing for hours. The thought of their uncle indirectly helping the kind he hated...the way they imagined his expression if he'd known...It was always, no matter what else happened, one of James's proudest moments.

5. Gryffindor was always going to be James' house. From a small age, he decided that while his mother's Ravenclaw background was OK, his father's Gryffindor one was better. So James was going to be a Gryffindor, and spend much of the year prior to Hogwarts doodling lions and swords (admittedly not very good ones) on every bit of paper nearby, and the desk in his room, and his bedroom wall, to his parents displeasure. Both his parents were worried that he wouldn't get the house he'd always wanted, and tried to cushion the possible disappointment by emphasising the good points of all the other houses. James hardly listened, assuring them that he definitely would be in Gryffindor, and feeling slightly hurt that they doubted him.

So James went off to Hogwarts and left his parents worrying about him, until, three days later, he finally wrote to tell them he was, as he'd said, in Gryffindor.

6. The house was so empty without him. The time before his birth had been completely forgotten, and so now the house was silent, his trainers were no longer in the hallway, right there for anyone trip over. His things weren't scattered around the house, his clothes weren't in the wash, and his seemingly endless supply of jackets weren't residing in every room. For weeks after he left, his mother started to go to his room to wake him, before remembering, his father would automatically set an extra place at the table, before realising. It was a huge adjustment.

And then, finally, it was Christmas. They both went to meet James at the station, and he flew towards them, a huge smile on his face. His mother caught him first, in a bone-crushing hug, sobbing. She didn't stop crying at all, as James described every detail of his first term, his friends, his dorm, his teachers, for the whole journey home.

For a blissful two weeks, everything was back to normal, and right again. The house was noisy, his things were scattered around, and he was _there_.

And then he had to go away again.

7. The Potter/Evans wedding was rather rushed. The war was well under way, and neither of them wanted to wait. James and his friends were calling in favours daily to arrange everything. Amazingly, after just under a month, everything was set and they married without a problem. Though there were a few whispers, speculating a shot-gun wedding, Lily wasn't pregnant at the time.

But it worked out for the best in the end; Lily's mother died weeks after the wedding; her father followed two months later. And though it was a difficult time, Lily took some comfort in the fact that her parents had seen her wedding.

And James was forced to the same when his own parents died less than a year later. BothLily and James were stunned; they were pretty much all the family they had, now – Lily's sister being estranged – and it was a lonely feeling. And then Sirius, Remus and Peter burst into the house, making noise and mess, and the loneliness had gone, the feelings of isolation had gone.

Because it doesn't take blood to be family.

8. Harry's birth took several hours, one boiling day in July. Lily spent most of it screaming in agony; James spent some of it suppressing screams of agony as Lily gripped his hand with a surprising amount of strength. Finally, screaming and pink and (though no one said it) rather-gross looking, covered in things James refused to think about, their son was born. They'd already chosen his name, months before, and spent hours taking it in turns to hold him, murmuring his name over and over in wonder.

The months that followed were difficult for the Potters, though neither would have had it any different. And when they had to go into hiding, moving from the decent sized house James had inherited from his parents into a small, if charming, little house in Godric's Hollow, neither complained. Because this was for their son, his safety, his survival, and what parent would complain?

Neither would have complained, either, that they died for their son's survival. Nor would they change it. (What parent would?)

9. It was autumn when Harry married Ginny. A cool day, but surprisingly sunny, they stood in the back garden surrounded by family, by friends, with dying leaves on the floor, some still clinging to life, to the trees. At eleven, Ginny had dreamed of a lavish wedding, with white and blood-red roses, crowds of people, in an expensive building. However, older now, her tastes had changed, and instead they stood in the back garden of the house they'd bought recently, near the edge of a cliff, with the sea in front of them, and only those who mattered around them. There were no roses – the blood red roses had been taken by Hermione not long before – but instead a mixture of white lilies, forget-me-nots and a single black rose bud, which was in Ginny's bouquet, both for rebirth, and, though no one said it, for death – or rather, those who were dead.

10. The Potter/Weasley kids had, from birth, more pictures taken of them than anybody bothered to count. While Molly Weasley was the taker of a large amount of these pictures, Harry took his fair share, too, and while it was a subconscious move, it was somewhat due to the lack of pictures of his parents and other relatives. So no one has to look very far to find a picture of any Potter child – or, in fact, their cousins – at any age. And, when the Potter grandchildren come along, it will be the same for them.

And now, the Potters are part of the Weasleys, and so will never be a small family again.


	98. Hogwarts

Look how close we are...wow. Big thanks to all the reviewers, and I'll try to update quicker next time.

98. Hogwarts

1. Hogwarts is the most well protected building in the country; possibly the world. Though today even those closest to the school know only some of what protects it. The castle is shielded by magic long since forgotten, magic none are aware ever existed. Rowena Ravenclaw herself took care of a lot of the protection, and used some spells that were, even then, almost unheard of. Godric and Salazar, in a fit of recklessness, tried to invent their own protections; and though no one will ever know just what those experiments succeeded in doing, it didn't hurt.

After the war, when parts of the castle had to be rebuilt or repaired, some of the enchantments had broken; but the strongest, the oldest, held true, and will be present for as long as the school is. More were added before Hogwarts re-opened its doors, and will be added if and when more spells are discovered. Because the safety of Hogwarts' students has been, from the days of the founders, paramount.

2. The lake at Hogwarts has always had a giant squid; and though some rumours surfaced during the 1800s that the same squid had been since the days of the founders, others believe that there are numerous squids, under the surface, multiplying to ensure the tradition. It's doubtful that anyone will ever know the truth, but it is certain that there will continue to be a giant squid there – whether the same one or not.

3. Dumbledore was and is the only headmaster to be buried at Hogwarts; his grave, always kept a pure, clean white, will remain long after those who knew him have gone; as will the stories surrounding him. In the future, he will become the subject of myths and legends, admiration and scorn. His grave will be visited by the curious, and the nervous will be dared to touch the cool white marble. Some will believe everything they hear on the man, and build him up, in their minds, to be some kind of indestructible hero, as some did while he lived. Others will doubt, insist that no man could possibly have done _that_, the same way they will doubt that Lord Voldemort and his followers were really as bad as the teachers insist, really did as much as the books describe, because it is inconceivable to them that someone could do such a thing.

This, however, this innocence and disbelief, the untainted lives of the future students is the very thing Dumbledore wanted, and so when students will sit by his grave and debate just whether he really did all those things, his legacy will be alive.

4. The centaurs in the forest have been there for almost as long as the squid; though they, of course, are not the same ones who were first discovered by Godric centuries ago. The forest holds many creatures, and will continue to do so; every once in a while a new species will set up home in the darkness, making their nests and raising their young. The forest will remain a part of Hogwarts for all time, as will the creatures it holds.

This was part of the lure for Rowena when she found the spot. A symbol that no matter what was discovered, what was taught, there would always be places like this to hold secrets. Always places like this that would never truly be understood, completely discovered. And that was important to Rowena for reasons she never fully understood.

5. The Room of Requirement was destroyed by the fire during the battle. But as soon as the door was closed again, the fire was gone, as was the room; for it is only there when it is needed. It continues to work, morphing into whatever is requested of it. However, the objects in the Room of Hidden Things were all ruined, and will never be retrieved. Instead, when students began requesting a place to hide an object – as they invariably do – they found a small, nearly empty room to store it. The first student found an empty room, and placed a small box on a high shelf.

Eventually, the room will be back to how it was, with rows and piles of objects as far as the eye can see. But it took Hogwarts thousands of years to do it the first time; and will take that long this time, too.

6. If a muggle reaches Hogwarts, they will see an old ruin, with a sign warning of danger. However, a muggle will never make it anywhere near Hogwarts. Some of the charms and spells on the building and grounds are designed for such a purpose. These days, that is simply to help hide magic, to prevent anyone stumbling upon it. But it wasn't designed for that. The muggle-repelling charms are in place for the safety of the students. In the founders' time, muggles were dangerous to magical people, and it was important they were kept well away from the most vulnerable of wizardkind.

7. The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall was damaged during the battle and it was several weeks before someone got round to fixing it. Until it was repaired, it was unpredictable, showing storms during the sunniest days; blinding people with rays of sunshine while it was cloudy outside. It showed rain on clear days, and bright blue skies when really rain was pounding the other windows. It was both amusing and inconvenient, and many would sigh and mutter that they really needed to get round to fixing that.

However, once the ceiling was fixed, those who'd been most involved in re-building the school, the ones who'd lived with the wrong ceiling day after day, found that they missed it. That looking up and seeing the correct sky was, though still amazing, less fun as seeing a completely different weather pattern to what the windows showed.

8. Some say that Hogwarts is different to how it was. That it'll never be the same. Partly because some of it is new, re-built from ruin after the war. And partly because some of it isn't, and those parts of the castle witnessed that night, held the battle inside them, and the death. Some claim that Hogwarts is haunted – not in the same way as the ghosts who live there, but haunted by the memories. There are certain parts of the castle that never, no matter what, feel warm; certain parts where the shadows seem darker. There are areas where some students daren't stand still for too long, as their skin begins to prickle, and their heartbeats speed up.

But, of course, this is only felt by some. Others are completely unaffected by these things, or unconcerned by them.

9. Great efforts were taken, however, to make Hogwarts as similar as possible to how it was. The only thing purposely different is the memorial plaque in the entrance hall. A huge sheet of gold, an inch thick, is fixed to one wall. Black writing is engraved into it, each letter an inch tall. It's names, engraved into the gold. Firstly the names of those who died on that final night, one after the other, under the heading "Died Fighting" and the date of that last battle. They tried their best to group the names together by family, friends, to comfort the living. And maybe, in some way, to comfort the dead.

Under a second heading, of "Lost in the War" come the other names; those who died in other battles; those who died in the war. This was Harry's idea; though he wasn't the one to come up with the original concept, it was he who insisted on adding those who died before the final battle, on naming all who gave their lives to the cause. And so Dumbledore is up there, Sirius, Lily and James Potter, among all the others. There is a note of the muggles who died, but can't be named, and then a final message; _They died as heroes. Remember them forever._

A second, smaller plaque was added some five years later, on the opposite wall to the first. This names those who fought in the war and survived, and was McGonagall's idea, because, she told Harry when she suggested it, those who helped end the war, who risked their lives, shouldn't be forgotten or devalued because they lived. She also suggested having Harry's name specially mentioned, separate from the others. He, however, insisted that his name would be there with the others, that there would be no impression that he risked more, put more effort in. So even if, in some people's opinions, he deserved a special mention, Harry's name is simply the first on the plaque, with Ron's and Hermione's immediately following it.

10. Hogwarts also hosts the memorial service, every year on the second of May. Taking place at four in the afternoon, every year, all the Hogwarts students are made to attend, and anyone else is welcomed. The Great Hall is packed with chairs, and every chair is filled. The service lasts around an hour; speeches are given by the Minister for Magic, the Headmistress, and Harry Potter himself, and each lights a candle in memory. Though obviously at some time, everyone who knew those people will be dead and gone; everyone who remembers them, and the war, will be dead and gone, it is hoped that the memorial service will continue, and that none will forget what happened, and what it cost.


	99. The Weasleys

Well I did say I'd update quicker this time. I hadn't even thought up any points for this one, and they as soon as I started trying to write it, it all just came out of nowhere. I love it when that happened.

So, one more left now. I'll try to get that up soon, too, and thanks for reviewing.

And if anyone's interested in the second part of the final point, I've just posted a Jigsaw Piece about it.

99. The Weasleys

1. The Weasley family was not always poor. Until the late 1800s, the family held a decent amount of gold, typical of the old wizarding lines. They lived comfortably, owned property, dressed in fine clothes and bought expensive items. Not a single member of the family worried about money; they mingled with the elite, at the society events that they'd later be shunned from. They were respected, even admired.

It was one of Arthur's ancestors who ruined it all, and so the whispers that came later would say that the family brought about their own problems, that if they were smarter they'd never have left Eugene Weasley have access to the family gold. It was unclear, at first, just why the Weasleys stopped attending parties, stopped showing off new clothes or furniture. It was unclear, at first, why Eugene's mother stopped shopping with her friends, or meeting them for meals. It was unclear, at first, why they stopped throwing extravagant dinner parties. It was unclear, at first, why Eugene stopped seeing his own friends.

Then the rumours started, the whispers. That Eugene had squandered the gold. That he'd stolen from the family vault even after he'd been banned from going near it. That he'd lost it all gambling, and spending it on drinks and women and other such things. The gambling was the one they were most interested in, and the whispers and rumours insisted that he'd become obsessed, despite his lack of luck. That his parents had been unable to stop him. Until everything was gone.

2. The family came down quickly after the scandal. Shunned by their friends, by the society they'd been part of. Struggling to pay off their eldest son's debts, with Eugene's brothers and father having to take any job they could talk their way into, and his mother having to take a position as a maid for a neighbour. They lost the house next, the grand, three story building, sold to pay off the debts, and to feed the family. Eugene was sent away, to an aunt on his mother's side, and his parents and brothers relocated to a smaller house, a handful of small rooms. His mother took to crying, every morning, before she could drag herself out of bed and to the houses she was paid to clean. His father shouted at everyone, everything. One of his brothers took to drinking, until his other brother pointed out that Eugene's drinking habit had helped ruin them, and they couldn't afford the liquor anyway. Eventually, they had to accept that their old life, the one they'd enjoyed, the one their ancestors had enjoyed, was behind them. That this, the life of poverty, was theirs now.

Hopefully, Eugene's mother said one day, future Weasleys would work their way out, work their way up, until they could have a lifestyle similar to the one the family had lost.

3. Eugene died a couple of years later, in what many suspected to be suicide. Drowned, was the official story. An accident. But the family moved on, never forgiving him, but eventually forgetting about him. The finances fluctuated over the generations, rising and falling as some worked their way up, some fell down. Sons were born, and they worked and married and had more sons, who worked and married and had more. They struggled to afford their children, their homes, always repeating the wish of Eugene's mother; that one day the Weasleys would have money again. The decades passed, some of those sons earned enough for comfort, if never coming close to riches.

4. Arthur and his brothers were born into a family who managed survival. Just enough money to get by on. Enough for food and clothes, but not enough for a better home, not enough for expensive furniture or such things. And they had never earned their status back; so some would still murmur about those Weasleys, tell each other with humour that once upon a time, that family had been like them, you know. They'd had money and status and fine things. And wasn't it amusing that now they were such a mess?

Arthur managed to ignore the whispers well enough. It was his brothers with the problem. The eldest wanted fame and fortune, wanted to show the whisperers how wrong they'd been. He, soon after leaving Hogwarts, left the country in order to obtain them. He sent the occasional letter home to his parents, telling them little more than that he was alive. Arthur's younger brother went the opposite way, resigned to his life. He moved away from his family, took any cash-in-hand job he could get, and fritted his money away, bitterly certain that this was all he was destined to. He died soon after his twentieth birthday, caught up in the beginnings of the war.

And Arthur married Molly. He didn't care about money, or status, but only about starting a life with her. It was the war, which was just subtly beginning, that made them so eager to start their family.

5. Molly had wanted sons first. Two, she thought. Two sons, and then a daughter. Young and idealistic, she'd thought that would be perfect. Sons, brothers to protect their sister. And a daughter, one who Molly would be close to. That was the plan. Three children, and she'd have them all while she was young. She'd be a young, fun mother, but a good one, too. Because all she'd ever really wanted to be was a mother; all Arthur had ever wanted was a family. While his eldest brother dreamed of making money, and left them to do so, and while his youngest brother refused to dream of anything and died instead, Arthur had dreamed of a family. A wife he loved, a bunch of kids. Happiness.

So along came Bill, the son Molly had hoped for. The child Arthur had dreamed of. And Charlie, who was wanted the same. The third pregnancy was supposed to be the girl, the daughter, but within a few months, Molly knew that they were having another son. She could tell, she told Arthur, could feel it. It didn't exactly bother her. She loved her boys, and so another one was fine. And if she'd wanted a daughter, the disappointed barely registered. Molly loved being pregnant, loved having children. So Percy was a celebrated as his brothers had been. The next time, Molly was sure, would be a daughter. Her brother's deaths nearly destroyed her, losing both of them like that. And strengthened her resolve to expand her family – the only family she had, now – and so when she fell on with twins she was overjoyed. Of course five children would be difficult. Of course it would be expensive. But twins, more children. And surely one, one at least would be a girl? Still, no real disappointment at the boys. More boys, more sons, why would she be disappointed? She loved them.

They considered ending things there. Stopping. Five children, after all, wasn't easy, or cheap. But they didn't feel finished, either of them. Molly assumed that it was because they didn't have a girl – and so this time, the last time, it would be a daughter. They were both sure. Until the fifth month of the pregnancy, when Molly realised – the thought entering her head despite her thinking of something else entirely – that this was another boy. Another son. And because they'd decided this was the last time, the last child, she felt the disappointment. Six sons, and no daughter. It bothered her – which made her guilty – right up until Ron was born. And then she didn't care, at all. It didn't matter that he was a boy, that she had no daughter. This was her _child, _and why would she be disappointed?

Ron was only a few months old when they talked about another one. One more, Arthur murmured. Just one more. And Molly, caught up in the feeling of having a baby depend on her, of all the feelings of new-motherhood, agreed. She was pregnant again almost straight away, sooner than they'd expected. They'd be just a year between Ron and their new baby, they knew. Their last baby.

6. Molly knew. She could feel it. By the time she reached her fifth month, she was certain. Everything felt different, this time. And, though she hardly dared hope, she knew. This was it, this was what they wanted, needed. "A girl." Molly whispered to Arthur in the dark. "It's a girl. We weren't meant to have one before. We were supposed to have the boys. But this time...we're ready for a girl, now." Neither of them could wait for it, for their daughter to be born. For their family to be complete. They'd had more kids than either had planned, but both were certain that this was how they were meant to be, the family they were meant to have.

And then, six weeks before she was supposed to, Molly went into labour. They were both panicked – though they'd been through this six times before, this was more than a month early. The twins had been a little earlier – but they'd been warned that would probably happen, that it was normal. Percy had been a week early – but a week was nothing, really, was it? Both were sure, for a little while, that they were going to lose their daughter before they properly had her.

But Ginny was born safe and healthy, if a little small. They both cried a little at the sight of her, and then, when Arthur let the boys in, carrying a fascinated Ron, Molly cried even harder as they all climbed onto her bed, pushing at each other as they looked at their sister in wonder.

It was perfect.

7. Hours after Voldemort's death, the remaining Weasleys, and Harry and Hermione (who were, after all, already family themselves) returned to the Burrow. It was a mess, having been broken into and searched by Death Eaters at some point. In silence, they began to clean up, tired and weary and a mess of emotion. Though everyone looked up, their eyes wide, holding their breaths, at the sound of something falling, breaking, and then of a small blast, no one questioned Molly when she re-entered the living room, the broken fragments of her magical clock in her hands. She binned it in silence, and though everyone knew she'd destroyed it herself, no one ever spoke of it again. If someone was to ask about it, they'd have been told it was destroyed by the Death Eaters.

8. The Burrow had been Molly and Arthur's first home, and it was to be their only. They'd bought the original structure, scraping together all the money they had, using Arthur's inheritance and Molly's savings. With their family expanding, they'd added to it, building upwards more than outwards, doing the best they could. Sometimes, just sometimes, Arthur would think of the big, grand houses his earlier ancestors had lived in, and wished his could provide that for his family; give them huge bedrooms, personal bathrooms, a huge living room, a dining room, a spacious kitchen. But mostly, he'd look around his house and know it was a home, a happy, safe home. And if it sometimes felt a little crowded, if Molly had to spend hours planning where to put guests, if the furniture was all ancient, some of it second-hand, and older than even Bill, he knew that they were happy and comfortable here. That it held thousands of memories. Victoire was born there; Bill and George were both married there. And one day, their grandchildren would gather here, and their children, in turn.

It was home.

9. And home is where you go when you're broken. And home was where the family gathered, those first few weeks after Fred's death, when they had to face his funeral, and all the other funerals. It was where they stayed, sometimes in silence, sometimes alone, other times engrossing themselves and each other in the noise and crowd that made a family. And though they eventually healed, the best they could, and though they made their own homes, the Burrow was where they still gathered, year after year on the second of May. They'd spend the morning there, before travelling up to Hogwarts for the memorial ceremony. Victoire was born during one of those mornings, and the family was late to the ceremony, Harry having to run up to the stage to give his speech, Fleur and Bill missing it to stay home with their newborn. Year after year, as the family grew, they gathered there, to comfort each other, to remember.

10. Fred and George's store continued to do well. And though it became George and Ron's store, and though they expanded to have branches all over the country, Fred's name was still on much of the merchandise, his name still on one corner of the sign above the one in Diagon Alley. Because they will always, really, be Fred and George's store, their dream, their creation. For three years after his death, a portion of the store's earnings still went into Fred's Gringotts account, because they'd set their wages to do so automatically, and for a long while George couldn't bring himself to cancel Fred's wage.

Fred's share of the business was shared out among the family, as per his wishes. He and George had, one evening just days before they went into hiding, decided that if one of them was to die (though neither believed, even a little, that they would) that was how it would be. So ten per cent went to his parents, and five per cent each went to their brothers and sister, and Fleur and Harry and Hermione.

It earned them gold. Profits continued to rise, then remained steady. His parents, with their ten per cent, didn't have to worry about money. His siblings, between the profits from the shops and their own careers, could live comfortably, happily. Though none reached the grandeur Weasleys had once had – nor wanted to – they didn't worry about money, didn't have to shop in second hand stores any more.

They didn't want or need the status their ancestors had had. But they managed to earn most of their money back, and this time, they kept it.


	100. The Next Generation

Wow. I did it. We actually made it to a hundred. Be honest – who thought it would happen? Well, this is definitely the last chapter, and I thought the next generation was a nice way to end it. I know the last point isn't strictly about the next generation, but it just sort of wrote itself and I thought it was a nice ending. So, big, big thanks to every single person who reviewed, and wow at the amount of them. I never thought I'd get that many, or this thing would turn out to be so long, but thanks.

Love to you all and Merry Christmas.

100. The Next Generation

1. Victoire Weasley and Teddy Lupin were best friends for as long as they can remember. The day after she was born, he was taken to see her, and, at two years old, was fascinated by her. She, however, barely glanced at him before falling asleep in her father's arms. As they got older, the two year age gap didn't prevent them from becoming close, with Victoire trying to run around after Teddy before she could really walk, resulting in many bruises. They balanced each other perfectly, argued rarely, and got into trouble together often. When Victoire, at eight years old, told him that she hated her name, in a guilty whisper, it was Teddy who started shortening it to "Vee", which the whole family caught on to.

And then, he went to Hogwarts. A whole two years before she would, and Victoire was distraught. Her best friend (her only friend, really) was abandoning her, going off to Hogwarts without her. She'd hardly see him anymore, and he'd make lots of new friends and forget all about her. He soon lost patience with her, and rather than persisting with his attempts at comfort and reassurance, got annoyed and told her that she was being a stupid little kid. Which went down so badly that they barely spoke at the station, with a brief, moody "goodbye" passing between them before he climbed on the train.

But he missed her, and she him, while he was away. It was two weeks before he gave up, swallowing his pride and writing to her. And she wrote back, in a nine year old's scrawl, with words misspelled and uneven, telling him she was sorry and she missed him and wanted to be friends again. He kept that letter always, tucked away various desks or drawers throughout his life. And when the Christmas holidays finally came around, Teddy stepped off the train and found Victoire hurtling towards him. He not only let her hug him, but hugged her back, without caring that some of his new friends were watching.

Because though he'd made new friends, and she, too, would make her own later, they were always best, always the most important.

2. Lily Potter married at nineteen. This was, to much of her family, a surprise, because Lily had never seemed the type to settle down young. But, Lily told them all, there was no point in waiting around. She and Scorpius had gotten together when she was fifteen; by the time she was sixteen, they'd been in love, and, three years later, despite the doubts and murmurs and assumptions that it would never last, they still were. She was only two months out of Hogwarts when he proposed; six months later, they married, moved into a house. It seemed, to everyone, that they'd rushed into things, and many expressed worry that they were too young to understand what they really wanted, what they really felt, and that it would all end badly. Molly Weasley, the matriarch, however, was unexpectedly supportive. Though most of the family had thought she'd have the most doubts, she'd be the one who'd need most convincing, she instead defended the couple and their decisions.

"You may be young," she told Lily quietly on the morning of her wedding, "but you're not stupid. And I know you wouldn't do this is you weren't completely sure. There's nothing wrong with marrying young, if it's right." She smiled, and toyed with her own wedding ring. Molly and Arthur had, after all, married young themselves, braved the doubts and whispers. And though few saw any likeness between Lily and her maternal grandmother, Molly did. And so when Lily and Scorpius went on to have three children, when their marriage stayed strong, Molly Weasley could be seen sending smug looks to any who'd doubted her youngest granddaughter.

3. Fred and Louis Weasley were the next generations answer to the Weasley twins, their first year of Hogwarts. They tried, possibly, a little too hard to live up to expectations, and there were those who found them more annoying that amusing. But mostly, they were well liked, and their antics well received. Their second year, they were joined by James, and by Mitch Longbottom, Neville's eldest. With a small group of friends spanning both their year groups, they were often seen crowding up corridors, or in a corner of the courtyard. Plotting, many teachers nervously suspected.

The next year, they somewhat reluctantly allowed Rose, Albus, and Allison Longbottom to join them sometimes, though James and Mitch particularly would mutter that they didn't want their little brother/sister around. They even more reluctantly made room for Scorpius a little while later, the only Slytherin in their group. He turned out to have his advantages, as it happened, being able to enter to Slytherin common room, and collect information on certain members of his house. And the group was somewhat more accepting of Rose when she suggested using the Room of Requirement to spend their free time, rather than cluttering up hallways, or freezing outside.

4. Similarly, Lily and Hugo spent much of their time, from their second year, with Lydia Longbottom and the Scamander twins, all three of which were in the year below them. They, too, were occasionally permitted to join the group in the Room of Requirement, so that sometimes it was so crowded in there that Rose would half-joke that they were a fire hazard.

Later, when Fred and Lou and James and Mitch had left Hogwarts, Rose, Albus, Ally and Scorpius spent much of their time with Lily, Hugo, Lydia and the twins. It was here, during the elders' last year, the Lily and Scorpius got together, though there'd been something there for a while before hand. It was also here that Rose and Lorcan grew closer, though it would be around another three years before they got together. Point is, there was always a crowd of Weasleys at Hogwarts. Even if the rest of the family weren't strictly part of either group, they were sometimes around, much to the teacher's despair, and the younger students' intimidation.

And then, finally, Lily and Hugo had left, and the honorary family members had gone too. And everything seemed different with a Weasley-free school. Teachers would often uneasily remark how quiet things were, or how empty the school was. Students would sigh and say how dull things were without _that_ family. It was around four years before Teddy's eldest daughter arrived, so Hogwarts had just gotten used to life without Weasleys when they started arriving again, albeit with different surnames.

5. The Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes began expanding about a year after the end of the war, with George determined to make his and Fred's dream a reality, and keeping himself busy. Eventually they had shops scattered all over Britain, as well as keeping their mail-order service. This meant that the Weasley grandkids grew up knowing that there was always a job waiting for them in the business, giving them the kind of security most teenagers can only dream of. It was, however, only Fred, Roxy, Hugo and Louis who decided to work at WWW, and Molly insisted that George treat them as he would a non-related employee, making them start with the position and wage any other eighteen year old would. He did, though it is possible he let them work their way up slightly easier than he would had done if they weren't his children or nephews.

6. Over the years, Neville and Luna became part of the family. Luna had, after all, lived with Bill and Fleur for those last few months of the war. And Neville was, for Molly Weasley, much like Harry; in need of a family. So they were accepted into the family before they'd even realised it, with their spouses accepted as in-laws, with their children accepted as part of the family, and referring to Molly and Arthur as their grandparents. None of the Longbottom or Scamander kids ever once questioned their place in the family, never once felt insecure because of the lack of blood tie. They were family in every way that mattered. Eventually, a couple of marriages made things legal, but no one noted any difference. Blood or marriage, they were always family.

6. Three weeks after Lily's wedding, Lysander Scamander announced that he was leaving. Seeing the world, he told them. The next morning, he left, sending brief postcards back every now and then, telling the family where he was. Occasionally, he'd include some detail of his trip, an event, a place he particularly loved, but mostly, the postcards were short and superficial. His departure left the family concerned, and some of them annoyed. Lily, Lydia and Lorcan, as the people closest to him, took it particularly hard. He returned just before James and Ally's wedding, to mixed reception. Though most of the family were simply pleased he was home, his brother and best friends took some winning round.

He wouldn't have expected any less.

7. Much of the family had paired or grouped up. Roxy and Lucy. Fred, Lou, James and Mitch. Rose, Albus and Ally. Lily, Hugo, Lydia and the twins. Victoire and Teddy. This left Dominique and Molly to pair up. There was a year between them, and they never managed to become as close as the other pairings; possibly due to this, theirs was the only pairing not to survive Hogwarts. Dominique went first, and made her own friends. By the time Molly arrived, a year later, they'd drifted apart, and there was no place for Molly in Dominique's group of friends. Molly had, however, expected this, and wasn't especially fazed by it. She, too, made her own friends, and there was no resentment from their failed friendship, despite their cousins' continuing close friendships.

However, at family gatherings, they still often sit together, talk together, and are still friends. They just don't have the bond like the others, and never really did.

8. It wasn't easy for any of them, having the surnames they did. With Harry Potter as their father or Uncle, they were bound to get much attention. With Ginny Weasley, well known and admired for her Quidditch fame, as their mother or aunt, they were going to get added attention. Throw in Ron and Hermione, famous for their place in the war, throw in George, co-creator of many students' favourite franchise, throw in Fred Weasley the first, who's name graced the memorial plaque, throw in Neville, who killed Voldemort's snake, throw in the rest, who fought in the war and were there on the night it ended, and you have a very famous family. The next generation were faced with stares, whispers, people desperate to be their friends, and people desperate to be their enemies. They had to learn to deal with attention, with constant questions, and with snide remarks.

This is the reason they tended to stick together, forging few friendships outside their group. It was hard to know who to trust – gossip about this particular family was highly prized – hard to know who was around simply because of the surname, hard to get used to the constant, personal questions. So they stuck together, permitting very few to join them.

9. Scorpius Malfoy was one of the few permitted to join them, and one of the few who understood what they were going through. Albeit for different reasons, Scorpius received as much attention, and more snide remarks. The victim of bullying throughout his Hogwarts career, he needed sanctuary, and found it, too. The viciousness of the bullying deteriorated once he'd been attached to the Weasleys, but it never faded away completely, and scarred the boy. Albus was the first friend he made, and he was accepted by Rose and Ally almost straight away. He knew at the time that this was out of pity, for the boy who couldn't walk down a corridor without something being said, the boy who'd been jinxed and hit and pushed, the boy who'd been shoved down half a flight of stairs during his second week, the boy who'd been locked in a broom cupboard during his third week, the boy who believed he deserved all of it because of his family's actions. But he accepted their pity, their company, and over the years became as close and attached to them as he had done to Albus. Though he'd managed to avoid family gatherings throughout the friendship, once he and Lily became a couple she began to drag him to them.

And while Scorpius had expected rejection, humiliation, even hate, from the family, he found acceptance. They accepted him, as Albus, Rose and Ally's friend, accepted him as Lily's boyfriend. And their grandmother, particularly, saw past his blood and surname, and saw the bullied, insecure, damaged boy he was. And as she had done with others throughout the years, she brought him into the family.

10. Once Molly Weasley had gotten all her grandchildren, the only thing she wanted was great-grandchildren. She wanted to see all her grandkids settled, happy, and to have more babies about the place. Though little Dora Lupin was her first great-grandchild, Molly did get more, did continue to have her house filled with family – the only thing, after all, she'd ever wanted. She had step great-grandchildren, who she accepted without reluctance. She had adopted great-grandchildren, whose blood didn't matter to her in the slightest. The Burrow is crowded with pictures of children of varying ages, and if any friend, neighbour, casual acquaintance or complete stranger was to inquire about the well-being of Molly's family, they would be provided with a number of stories, anecdotes, or comments about multiple children, grandchildren, or great-grandchildren.

And while Christmas and birthday may be expensive, with it takes her great time and effort to crowd them all into a picture together, they're her family, the only thing she ever wanted.

And so above the fireplace in the Burrow's sitting room is a wide picture, with her entire living family – blood, marriage, adopted and honorary – crowded together, sitting, standing, being held, all smiling at the camera, because Molly insists they smile on pictures. Four generations, captured forever. She'll take a new one every year, to incorporate new members or the changes the years bring. And one day, there'll be a new generation added to the picture above the fireplace.


End file.
